


Beneath the Echoed Veil

by TaleKeeper



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canonical Character Death, Comfort/Angst, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, Fantasy, Female Frisk, Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Magic, Multi, Slow Build, Undertale AU, dark themes, fantasy steampunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-04-04 00:24:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 42,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14008086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleKeeper/pseuds/TaleKeeper
Summary: It is said that before time was first counted, humanity was gifted magic by the Angels, putting an end to the Millennium War. Not many still believe in that old legend, but regardless of the specific events, humans and monsters grew to know peace with one another, and a new age began on the continent of Th’nevun.Now the year is 851:1 AT, and humans have started dying in monster lands. Arbiter Sans has been tasked with finding and passing judgement on the cause of the attacks before a brand new war breaks out between the two races. But that’s easier said than done, and Sans soon finds himself entangled with foreign powers hell bent on keeping their peace, a legacy that threatens the stability of the present, and a human woman who may just be the biggest mystery of them all.A fantasy-themed Undertale story.





	1. Start of an Era

 

It was a beautiful day outside. 

Beautiful enough to tempt even the likes of him to stop and take a moment to simply admire it...which was, to be honest, a pretty big accomplishment. He’d spent over a hundred years wandering around Th’nuven, after all - the scenery had stopped being awe-inspiring and worthy of a second look after the first fifty or so years. 

Although he supposed there were still enough sights left in Th’nuven, waiting to be discovered and explored in their own time.

Not be him, though. The life of a wanderer and adventurer had been a pretty swell gig in its own right, but those days were behind him now. Any time he had nowadays to discover new sights was usually tacked on to the end of an assignment, and even _then_ it was a rare deal. 

Because, now? He had other, more important things to be searching for.  

“Arbiter Sans?”

Sans cracked open one eye, taking in the bunny monster wearing a modest tunic and pair of pants, and the scroll she had dangling over one arm. He didn’t recognize her at all - though to be fair, the last time he’d been by the palace had been over three years ago. He’d also been requested to visit more often, not just when he was summoned to the palace.

Oops.

What he _did_ recognize, however, was the look on the other monster’s face - one of disbelief that she was valiantly trying her hardest to hide behind a polite smile, but it was there all the same. And she must have realized it too. She was looking right at him, but the moment he’d cracked open his eye, she had flushed and started fiddling with her scroll.

Heh heh. He knew he didn’t exactly paint the picture of a righteous Arbiter. Certainly didn’t resemble the various murals strewn about the palace. She’d probably expected a dog in shining armor, or maybe a buff knight with a spear as long as his entire body. Or just about anything other than him. 

Sans didn’t let her obviously-trying-to-hide-it-disdain bother him, though, because he’d thought the same thing she was thinking right now, plenty of times before. Couldn’t exactly blame her for thinking it. What he _could_ do, however, was push himself up and away from the tree roots he’d been lounging against, tucking his hands into his pockets and sending a wink towards the monster, and ignore her confused glare.

She’d get used to it. 

Because, well...to be honest?

He had a feeling she was going to be seeing him around the palace a lot more often, now. 

“King Asgore will see you now.”

 

* * *

 

“Dum dee dum dum...”

Of course Asgore was in the middle of watering his flowers. He’d probably been all prepared with whatever solemn assignment he had ready to give him, then had gotten his attention span stolen by his flowers. 

Sans only grinned, though, as he strolled up behind the King. He couldn’t really fault the fluffy monster for his obsession, not when they were the only things that helped brighten up his life in the midsts of crises. Not when the King of Monsters had taken on the sole duty of ruling Monstrom after the Queen had disappeared. The big guy needed to be cut some slack every now and again.

If only the big guy _himself_ actually agreed. 

“sup,” Sans said in greeting, raising one hand even though Asgore’s back was still turned towards him, _“flower_ ‘ya doing?”

“Yes, because you’ve never used _that_ one before,” Asgore said grumpily, finishing up with his last batch of flowers. 

“hey, you got any others?” he requested, even though the both of them were very well aware that he had a limitless supply of puns, and Sans grinned wider as he saw Asgore’s back slump slightly in preparation. “because i’ve been looking for some _bud_ der ones, pfft.”

The goat monster sighed, but seemed to decide that the best recourse was to focus all his attention on the flowers, leaving Sans to get himself comfortable...not that there was much room in here to get comfortable. He ended up settling himself onto the golden throne, laying sideways on it with his legs hanging over the edge. The warmth of the sunlight hit his face as the skeleton basked, lazily resting his arms behind his head as Asgore finally finished with the watering.

“There,” the goat monster said definitively, setting down the watering can, before turning towards him with a smile. “Howdy Sans. Thank you for coming.”

“not like i’ve got much of a choice, pal,” Sans said, but waved a hand through the air to show no ill will in the statement. He _was_ the Arbiter for a reason, after all, and all the perks came with the actual work, too. 

“Mmm, yes, I suppose there is that,” Asgore chuckled, gazing at him with a fondness that reminded Sans of his youth, of looking up at white fur and kind eyes and warm paws encircling him. “Still, it gladdens my heart to see you again, Sans.” Those fond eyes turned momentarily morose. “I only wish I could see you more often.”

...Welp. _Now_ he felt like the world’s biggest heel. 

Sans struggled not to fidget as he lounged on the throne room. “sorry buddy,” he said, not entirely sincere but not really knowing how else to proceed. Tori had vanished over a hundred years ago, when he’d only been on the cusp of adulthood, and even at that young age he’d understood how deeply it had affected the King. Big guy was pretty lonely, up in his golden throne room.

“Papyrus has been missing you as well,” Asgore continued, and okay, _that_ was a little stronger than strictly necessary. Sans felt distinctly like a turtle as he scrunched his neck downwards into his jacket. “I believe he’s been saving up for some Communing Crystals for the both of you.”

“aw, paps,” Sans muttered under his breath, both deeply touched and deeply disturbed. Communing Crystals were one of the most expensive pieces of magical equipment a monster _or_ human could ever hope to afford, and even _he_ , getting paid the big gold pieces as Arbiter, would balk before spending that amount of money. And he knew being a soldier in the Royal Guard paid nowhere _near_ the same amount.  

“You will see him before you go,” the King said. The words were spoken mildly, but even a deaf monster could have heard the lack of question behind them.

For his part, Sans couldn’t help feel a little affronted even as the guilt knocked about his skull. Sure, he wasn’t around a whole lot, but he’d become Arbiter for _Paps._ He’d spent the last six years traveling, for _Paps._ It hurt to think that Asgore thought he might deliberately avoid seeing his brother before he left again.

But he didn’t voice these thoughts out loud, settling for a succinct, “course i will.”

Asgore nodded. “Good,” he said, folding his hands behind his back, a gesture so disturbingly familiar to him that Sans actually shuddered. “You should treasure your family while you still have them, Sans.”

Heh heh...depends on the family.

He didn’t say that, however. Instead, Sans only nodded placidly, reclining sideways on the throne once again as he grinned over at the monster. “guess it’s too much to hope you asked me here just to chat and catch up, huh,” he questioned, though there was a distinct lack of questioning lilt to his tone. 

The goat monster blinked once, as if he had indeed forgotten why Sans was here. “Oh ho,” he said, and Sans was pleased to hear the lack of melancholy in the old monster’s voice, timbre once again returning to its usual jolly pitch. “Yes of course.” Asgore moved around towards the front of the throne, before he paused, glancing back at him. “Ah - would you care for some tea?”

“nah, i’m good,” the skeleton answered, waving a dismissive hand through the air, and Asgore nodded. “so c’mon, buddy, i’m _tea-_ ming with anticipation here...what’s monstrom need from its arbiter?”

The goat monster strode in front of the throne room, towards the bare patch of ground devoid of any flowers. He bent down, and although his purple cloak obstructed his view, Sans had seen him press his paw against the ground several times before. As such, he simply continued reclining on the throne as Asgore stood back up, followed by the pedestal that rose from the earth. It was only when the King took a step back, looking at him expectantly, did Sans hop down from his position, slinking forwards towards the pedestal.

A map of Th’nevun occupied the space, on a piece of parchment that looked new and pristine expect for some markings on it. The continent looked much the same as it had for the past several centuries - the human lands of Sovredes at the north and a much smaller section at the south, and the kingdom of Monstrom cutting straight through the middle of human territory from east to west. Unlike many of the traditional maps, this one was also updated with entire sections completely blacked out from the Scourge, most of the those areas licking at the edges of Northern Sovredes, and one large mass on the eastern edge of Monstrom. 

The only apparent anomalies on the map were the ‘x’ marks that spanned up and down Monstrom. Most were centered on the Accordian Road - particularly on the section that passed through the mountain range - but there were some outliers speckling the southern border and the wilds. 

It was the markings that immediately piqued his interest, and Sans was pretty certain he’d been dead on in his assumption of his new assignment.

“the attacks?”

“Yes,” Asgore said heavily, and the sorrow in his voice was fully sincere despite the fact that they were talking about the loss of human lives. “For the past year, humans have been dying in Monstrom. Many of them on their way from Southern Sovredes to the northern lands.”

“i’ve heard about ‘em,” Sans offered, peering over the map again. “most have been happening along the accordian road, right?” he asked, even though the map was collaborating the rumors. 

Asgore nodded solemnly. “The Accordian Road was created sometime after the Millennium War, a measure of peace to allow humans to freely travel to and from Southern and Northern Sovredes. And now, humans have been dying along it.” The goat King heaved another great sigh, the entirety of his shoulders lifting up then down with the breath. “Accidents can happen, yes...but these attacks have been occurring consistently and frequently. They’re beginning to look - ”

“orchestrated,” Sans finished, eyes flitting over the information the map was telling him. “like they’re happening on purpose.”

“The High Autocracy in Sovredes is beginning to talk,” the King said, and Sans blinked in surprise. _That_ wasn’t good. “Humans are beginning to whisper amongst themselves. These attacks are making us look as if we’re purposefully targeting humans.”

“along the accordian road, too,” he murmured, running a finger down said line drawn in black ink. Monster attacks against humans along the Accordian Road? What was suppose to be the safest route from Southern Sovredes to its northern counterpart? Yup...that looked bad alright. 

...But.

“they _are_ being targeted,” he surmised, glancing up at Asgore, and was not surprised to find the goat monster nodding solemnly alongside him. “who?”

“Who knows?” the King said, looking troubled as he bent down over the map slightly. “There are always signs of magic in these attacks; for that reason, monsters are being suspected. The Golden Triad? Common bandits? They are leaving no clues and no ransoms. Whatever their goals are, they think nothing of human death in the process.”

“and those deaths are making us look like the bad guys,” Sans said grimly. 

“Indeed,” Asgore said, equally grim. “Sans...Monstrom has been living peacefully alongside the humans for centuries, since the end of the Millennium War. Whoever is behind these attacks...their actions will cause another war to break out between us. This _cannot_ be allowed to happen.”

“heh. guess that’s where i come in, huh,” he not-questioned, because he already knew where this was headed. 

The King nodded, straightening up to reach out a paw and rest it heavily against his shoulder. “Yes, Sans. You are our Arbiter, our Settler of Disputes. Our Judge.” The paw pressed down against his shoulder for a moment before Asgore released him. “You must find out what is happening, who is behind these attacks...and deal with them, _before_ the High Autocracy concludes that we are deliberately breaking our ancient pact.”

“heh. sounds like the humans _ar biter_ about it already,” he chuckled, ignoring the goat monster’s briefly pained sigh to focus back onto the map. “so where am i going?”

His hand had been resting along the Accordian Road, following the trail down to what was probably one of the more recent attacks - but to his surprise, the goat monster across from him grabbed at his wrist, and relocated his hand towards the east. “Here.”

The ‘x’ mark was one of those outliers, not along the Accordian Road and seemingly having no connection to the majority of the attacks. It was just south of Yvelte, which rested a bit north of the border to Southern Sovredes. 

“huh. why here?”

“As far as we can tell, that was the most recent attack,” Asgore commented, studying the area alongside him. “A few days ago. Though, we believe this attack may be different than the others.”

Sans raised his eyebrows expectantly. 

“All these attacks,” the King said, spreading his paw across the map. “There’s always been at least one survivor. Their witnesses are how we have been tracking these attacks. However...” The white paw returned back towards the ‘x’ below Yvelte. “There were no survivors in this encounter.”

The obvious question wafted around the throne room. “then who saw and reported it?”

“A huntsman,” was the unexpected answer, “traveling through the wilds. He saw the smoke and the magic, but was understandably too afraid for his life to investigate. He reported the commotion to a guard in Yvelte. I received the message just yesterday.”

“and called for me,” Sans concluded, tapping his finger against the ‘x’. Heh. Good thing he’d been in the area, otherwise there was no telling how much more time would have been wasted getting back to the palace. “no survivors, this time.”

“None that have reported the attack,” Asgore affirmed, “and they have all, to our knowledge, been reported before.” The King shifted slightly where he stood. “None of the survivors have provided anything useful in identifying their attackers. What we _do_ know is that they must be inexperienced, or sloppy, to leave behind this many survivors. But in _this_ attack,” he continued, gesturing towards Sans’ finger, “they left no one. Perhaps this time, they were outmatched...or they found something they were not expecting. Whatever it is...well, I’m hoping - ”

“they left a clue,” Sans surmised, and saw Asgore nodding from the corner of his eyes. 

Find the responsible party for several attacks against humans in Monstrom, preferably _before_ Sovredes decided to declare war against monsterkind for the death of humans in their lands, by searching the one attack site that only _slightly_ deviated from the pattern of previous attacks and _hoping_ that the attackers left some sort of clue to their identity. 

Yup. No troubles there. 

“Sans.”

He blinked, and glanced upwards.

“I am sorry I cannot give you any more information,” Asgore said, that troubled look in his eyes once again, “we simply have none to give. But please...you _must_ stop these attacks. Or I fear that we...we will...”

\- end up in another war with humans, a race they were already struggling to keep up with. 

...Welp. He _was_ the Arbiter of Monstrom for a reason. 

“...heh heh. don’t worry, pal,” he uttered, stepping back from the pedestal. He tried not to feel pride at the way Asgore’s face brightened, relief on his features as if he thought Sans might refuse. Big ‘ol flufball would probably sadly accept his refusal too, even though he was _obligated_ to serve his kingdom. 

Among other things. Being Arbiter meant he served his kingdom...but being _Sans_ meant he served _Asgore._  

“i’ve _goat_ this.” 

Sans barely got to see Asgore’s confused look, one that quickly morphed into exasperated incredibility, before he teleported out of the throne room, leaving the brightly lit area for the less brightly lit hallway directly outside. If he strained his ears, he could maybe imagine the goat monster groaning or even sighing up into the sky, but there’d be plenty of time to get his _goat_ when he came back, pfft. 

“SANS!”

Because he had a _skele-_ ton of other monsters to drive insane with his puns. 

“sup bro,” he said amiably, not really surprised to find that Papyrus had waited outside of the throne room for him. His brother had probably gotten word of his arrival only a few minutes after he’d actually arrived, and had _also_ most likely headed straight for the throne room. 

He was just impressed Papyrus had actually managed to restrain himself from jumping through one of the windows into the room. 

“OH SANS,” his brother cried out, and Sans braced himself for a hug as the taller skeleton’s arms came around him, lifting him straight up from the ground. He rubbed at Paps’ head as best he could with his arms pinned to his sides. “I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH, BROTHER!”

“heh heh. i’ve missed you too, paps,” he said, and to his surprise, the words came out slightly hoarse. He coughed to try and cover it up, but from the knowing and slightly misty-eyed look his brother gave him, he probably didn’t do a very good job.

“WELL OF COURSE YOU DID,” Papyrus stated, still making no move to set him down. “IT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE TO NOT MISS A VERY COOL BROTHER LIKE MYSELF!”

“yup,” he said succinctly, and - just because it’d been years since he’d seen it - he grinned, ignoring Papyrus’ eyes as they immediately squinted in suspicion. “i missed talking with my cool bro. it really...”

The significant pause in his statement seemed to clue the other skeleton in, his eyes widening with a very familiar bug-eyed expression. “NO SANS DON’T, DON’T YOU DARE - ”

“ - _brother_ ed me.”

“NYEH!” Papyrus screeched, launching him straight into the air as if he was diseased. Sans easily caught himself with his magic on the way down - ostensibly so he wouldn’t crash face first against the marble, moreso to keep himself safely out of reach of his brother’s hands that kept twitching like they wanted to strangle a certain skeleton. “ONE MINUTE! ONE MINUTE OF SEEING EACH OTHER AGAIN, AND YOU RUIN THE MOMENT WITH YOUR TERRIBLE PUNS!”

“sorry bro,” he said with absolutely no sincerity whatsoever, “i’ll stop with the puns.”

The suspicious peering returned in full force. “REALLY?”

“really.” Sans shrugged, winking one eye down at his brother. “even though i think they’re pretty _pun_ ny.”

“THE WORST!” Papyrus declared, huffily turning away from him to cross his arms. “I TAKE IT BACK, I DIDN’T MISS YOU AT ALL!”

“hey, c’mon paps,” he said, finding it safe to set himself back down on the ground. “you’re smiling.”

“ONLY BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN AWAY FOR SO LONG, I’VE LOST MY RESISTANCE TO YOUR TERRIBLE PUNS,” the other skeleton asserted, still crossing his arms with his chin sticking into the air.

Which was, _such_ a blatant lie that Sans couldn’t help chuckling, but he let it go as he stepped forward and embraced his brother, turned back or no. He felt Papyrus hold out for a grand total of two more seconds, before the other skeleton squirmed around in his grasp to return the hug, a satisfied “NYEH!” of contentment leaving his lips. 

Damn, it felt good to hold his brother again. 

Even _if_ he felt a lot pointier than he remembered. “new armor, bro?” he questioned a bit unnecessarily. “looks good on you.”

Immediately Papyrus inflated upwards, one hand rising to rest against his breastplate. His posture somewhat resembled the mural he was standing in front of, depicting a human woman with wings sprouting from her back. “IMPRESSED?” his brother asked loftily, tossing his head a bit as if he had long flowing locks to toss out of his face. “FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM NO LONGER A SOLDIER, NO NO! I HAVE BEEN PROMOTED!”

“yeah?”

“YES!” his brother confirmed, pride evident in his voice. “I HAVE BEEN PROMOTED TO - BRACE YOURSELF FOR THIS, BROTHER - A _PALADIN!”_

 _“woah,_ paps,” Sans exclaimed, legitimately surprised at the announcement. “that’s great!” And welp, there was definitely pride in his own voice as he stared up at his younger brother. “you’re the coolest, bro.”

“BUT OF COURSE, BROTHER!” Papy said, and the glee in his younger brother’s face only made his own grin widen. Thoroughly mollified by now, Papyrus fluffed up the red scarf resting atop his armor as the two of them began walking away from the throne room, instinctively moving towards the barracks.

Paladin, huh. So quick? He’d known Papyrus was completely dedicated to his commitment to the Royal Guard, but to think he’d advance to Paladin so quickly...Asgore must have really seen something in him. 

That...or maybe the King had decided Papyrus was just better suited as a Paladin rather than a soldier? 

Either way, he held no _bones_ about it. It was kind of a relief, to be honest. Those had been some tense days, arguing with Papyrus about his desire to join the Royal Guard. Contrary to its name, the Royal Guard were the ones that served on the ground, sent out for battles and stationed in cities and towns. Maybe once they had been mostly contained to palace guard duty, but that had changed under Asgore’s rule. The goat monster cared more about protecting his citizens than protecting himself.

But Paladins, on the other hand, were the very small guard that tended to serve as personal protection for the palace. They stayed in the royal city of New Home and generally had the easy life. A lot of soldiers aspired to become Paladins, but few got the chance. If Papyrus got to spend his days safely tucked away in the palace, welp.

He had no complaints. 

“so when’d it happen, paps?” he questioned as they strolled along the palace. Papyrus still had a hand pressed to his breastplate, eyes glowing with pride, but he started and glanced down towards him at the words. “the promotion, when’d it happen?”

“OH!” Papyrus exclaimed, and his eyes became even shinier as he remembered what had probably been the greatest day of his life...one that he had missed. “ABOUT A YEAR AGO, SANS!” The other skeleton paused even as their feet continued walking, and the shining look in his eyes turned slightly wry as Papyrus frowned down towards him. “WHICH YOU WOULD HAVE _KNOWN_ IF YOU HAD BEEN WHERE YOU _SAID_ YOU WERE GOING TO BE.”

Sans flinched, ducking his head down as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “damn, paps,” he muttered, and if Asgore’s disdain at his absence had hurt, that was _nothing_ compared to his brother’s disapproval. “i’m real sorry i missed the ceremony. i didn’t...i never meant to be gone for so long.”

No response. Sans glanced upwards to see Papyrus still frowning down at him, and he had to resist the urge to pull the hood of his traveling cloak down over his face. 

“BROTHER...”

Damnit, they were going to have _this_ conversation again. Supposed he deserved it this time, considering his searching had caused him to completely miss out on the best day of his brother’s life. 

“I WISH YOU WOULD COME HOME,” Papyrus said, and there it was, out in the open. They’d reached the barracks at this point, and his ragged appearance was causing a few of the soldiers milling around to stop and stare, but they both ignored them as his younger brother sighed. “YOU KNOW I AM GRATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU DID, SANS.”

“heh heh. just stay a _life_ paps, i’ll do the rest,” he tried, even throwing in a wink and a pun to try and derail the conversation. 

Not enough. Papyrus face scrunched up like he was trying his hardest not to yell, but he persisted. “BUT WHAT YOU’RE SEARCHING FOR OUT THERE...YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW IT EXISTS.”

 _But I have to_ try, _Paps. How can I not try?_

“SANS...” His brother reached out to clasp a hand against his shoulder, and Sans was struck by the similarity of the moment to the throne room, the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders. “I WOULD RATHER SPEND THE LAST OF MY DAYS - ”

He cringed. “paps, _don’t - ”_

“ - WITH YOU THAN _WITHOUT_ YOU, BROTHER!” Papyrus finished, unflinchingly, sincerity and love spilling from his eyes even as Sans struggled not to do something stupid, like break down or throw something against the wall or take Gaster Blasters to every living thing on Th’nevun until he and Paps were the last breathing souls alive.

No, he didn’t do anything stupid. Instead he let out a heavy, weighted breath, reaching up to grip the hand Papyrus had on his shoulder - a grip that was returned with a tight squeeze.

Before he removed it from his shoulder. 

“just let me try a little longer, paps,” he said, and if his voice was hoarse again, well, that was his own damn business, wasn’t it. “i can’t...i have to _try._ please?”

Papyrus frowned again, eyes turning downwards in a way that had him wanting to fall on his knees to beg and grovel and plead if that’s what it took, if that’s what it took to save Papyrus he would do it he would do _anything_ - 

But after a moment, his younger brother nodded, expression clearing up. “ALRIGHT, SANS,” Papyrus said, and he tried not to let the relief show on his face. “IF YOU INSIST.” The other skeleton paused for a moment longer, before he suddenly grinned and slapped a hand down on his shoulder again. “I BELIEVE IN YOU, BROTHER!”

Heh heh...so cool, his bro.

“thanks papy,” he breathed, and couldn’t resist reaching out to hug his brother again. He let the armored arms encircle him for a while, reveled in the feeling. 

Paps had forgiven him, and understood why he had to keep searching. 

“and hey, look,” he said, as they broke apart. His mouth almost closed up on the words, thinking of the bare minimum he’d have to scrape by with, but it was just about the only solution to keep on searching while keeping Paps happy. He would do it. “we’ll buy some communing crystals just as soon as we can, alright?”

The words had the desired effect in an instant, Papyrus’ entire face lighting up. “R-REALLY?” his brother exclaimed joyfully. “WOWIE! THEN WE CAN TALK TO EACH OTHER _EVERY DAY!”_

“yup,” he said agreeably, basking in his brother’s joy. “no more wondering where i am.”

“NYEH HEH HEH!” the other skeleton cried out, and it was a measure of his brother’s influence and or notoriety that the nearby soldiers didn’t even flinch at the loud exclamation, as if it were an everyday occurrence for them. 

Knowing his brother, it most _definitely_ was. 

“BUT EVEN SO,” Papyrus suddenly blurt out, attempting a stern stance even as the excitement kept his smile wide on his face, “YOU _MUST_ STILL COME BACK HOME ONCE IN A WHILE. EVERY MONTH - OH FINE. AT _LEAST_ ONCE A YEAR. ARE WE CLEAR, SANS?”

...Pfft. 

He didn’t even feel the slightest bit bad as the grin on his face stretched wider, and Papyrus got that suspicious look in his eyes, because...well. To be honest?

He’d just set himself up for that one.

 _“crystal_ clear, bro.”

Papyrus’ right eye twitched in a way that had Sans taking an automatic step backwards, but he didn’t bother trying to evade his brother as the other skeleton grabbed him, picked him up straight overhead, and flung him into the barracks with a very distressed _“NYEEEEEH!”_ to where he knew dinner was waiting in Papyrus’ rooms. 

Dinner that was, naturally, mostly comprised of those baked flour strips smothered in tomato sauce, a human dish that Papyrus loved even more than puzzles. Spaghetti, he thought it was called. 

Though to his surprise, there was also a sausage nestled between two slices of bread resting on one of the plates as well, complete with that same tomato sauce. 

Okay, _now_ he felt a little bad. 

“aw, you got my favorite, paps,” he sing-songed as his younger brother followed him into the barracks, a distinctive pout on his features. “been a while since i _sau sage_ love from you.”

Okay, maybe he didn’t feel _that_ bad.

“YOU DON’T DESERVE IT,” his brother asserted, taking a seat across the table from where he himself had landed. Papyrus stabbed his fork into his plate of spaghetti with finite force. “I CANNOT _BELIEVE_ I MISSED YOU AT ALL.”

“yeah well, you won’t miss me at all once we get those crystals,” he said idly, reclining back against the chair as he started on his own meal. It’d been a while since he’d had one of these sausage sandwiches - the bread was a special human variety, and was difficult to come across, usually only for the nobles of Sovredes. It was a wonder Papyrus had managed to get his hands on some. 

The reminder of the crystals, however, seemed to completely eclipse Papyrus’ ire at the shameless pun, excitement once again taking over his face. “INDEED! WHEN CAN WE GET THEM, SANS?”

“soon as i get paid for this job, bro,” he answered, glancing over the sausage sandwich towards Papyrus. “might take a little while, though.”

“BUT OF COURSE! SUCH AN EXPENSE MUST BE CAREFULLY CONSIDERED!” Despite his knowledge of the price tag, though, his younger brother excitedly dug back into his meal, tomato sauce smearing all over his face as he slurped down some of the baked flour strands. “I’VE BEEN SAVING MY GOLD, SANS. I, THE GREAT PALADIN PAPYRUS, WILL HELP PAY FOR THEM!”

“nah, don’t worry ‘bout it, paps,” Sans said placidly, grinning at his younger brother. “i’ve got it covered.”

“REALLY? WOWIE! YOU MUST BE GETTING PAID VERY WELL AS THE ARBITER!” Papyrus paused for a moment, a slightly suspicious sniff leaving him as the skeleton briefly wiped at one eye. “TO THINK THAT MY LAZYBONES BROTHER IS THE ARBITER...IT STILL FEELS ME WITH TEARS!”

“aw paps,” he said, embarrassed. “it’s not that exciting, i promise.” He knew how most monsters saw the Arbiter position, one of gleaming perfection and righteous judgement. The Arbiter was a symbol of justice and peace, keeping the calm throughout Monstrom. A knight of uncompromising strength and morals. 

In reality...

There was nothing gleaming and pristine about the Arbiter. ‘ _Keeping the peace’_ was just a fancy way of saying _‘Do whatever is necessary, regardless of morals and beliefs.’_ Entire decades of Monstrom history were soaked in blood spilt by the Aribter’s hands, the parts that were neatly kept out of the public eye. 

The Arbiter was a shadow, a wraith. A revenant that kept being brought back to life through the generations and lifetimes. Not a shining Paladin that glimmered and shone on the front lines. 

He could not have been any further from Papyrus’ shimmering image of him...and yet there was the admiration in his brother’s eyes. Pride in Sans, in his position, in his responsibilities to Monstrom. 

“IT IS TRUE YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY MATCH MY OWN AMOUNTS OF COOL, BROTHER,” Papyrus said decisively, which was entirely unnecessary to say. There was no monster or human that could ever measure up to the absolute _cool_ that was his bro, ever. “BUT THERE IS NO NEED TO BE MODEST EITHER! WELL...MAYBE SLIGHTLY LESS MODEST THAN I,” the other skeleton said thoughtfully, no doubt puzzling out the amounts of cool required to negate the need for modesty. 

If he knew his brother at all, there was probably some formulaic recipe to that problem, too. Like an alchemist carefully measuring out the amounts of cool against the liters of modesty to produce a potion of pure skeleton paladinness. 

That puzzle didn’t stymie his brother for long, however, as Papyrus gleefully returned his attention back onto him. “WHAT HAS THE KING REQUESTED OF YOU THIS TIME, SANS?”

He thought about it for a moment, before shrugging. “he wants me to check out those attacks that’ve been happening on the accordian road,” he answered honestly. There was no reason not to talk to Paps about it, the attacks were common knowledge by this point. Although, he had no intention of talking about the specific attack he’d been sent to investigate. That was a ‘need-to-know-basis’ sort of detail. 

Predictably, Papyrus let out a sympathetic sort of whine. “ALL THOSE POOR HUMANS,” his brother lamented, though his eyes hardened a moment later. “SCOUNDRELS! SANS, YOU _MUST_ TEACH THEM LESSONS OF LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP!”

Pfft. “sure will, paps,” he said, resting his head against one raised hand as he grinned at his brother, shaking a finger gun at the other skeleton. Immediately Papyrus was on the defensive. “count on it.”

There was a full ten seconds of silence as he continued grinning at his brother. “WELL?” Paps said, eyes narrowed onto him. 

He blinked. “well what, bro?”

“WHERE’S THE TERRIBLE PUN? I KNOW IT’S IN THERE, SLITHERING ABOUT LIKE A SLIPPERY SNAIL.”

Sans shrugged again, repositioning himself to fully recline sideways on the chair, legs kicked up and resting over one of the armrests. “no pun, bro,” he said, arms crossing behind his head. “honest.”

“HMM...” His younger brother continued to stare at him suspiciously - even without looking at him, Sans could _feel_ the force of the other’s derision against the side of his skull. But it wasn’t until he felt that force fade did he know Papyrus had slowly returned to his spaghetti. 

And he grinned.

“cause i think i really _s-nailed_ the last one anyways - ”

Setting off from the palace with a headache from the resulting ear-splitting screech courtesy of one Paladin... _probably_ hadn’t been the best way to start his Arbiter assignment, in retrospect.

But it had been completely worth it, anyways.

 

* * *

 

New Home to Yvelte was a five day journey on Slyven, one that he possibly could have made shorter with his teleportation. But considering the attacks that had been happening along the Accordian Road, he had felt it prudent to keep his magical reserves on high alert for the entirety of the trip. Sure, he may not have been a target himself, but if he happened across a group of humans getting attacked?

Not like he was just going to _ignore_ it. 

And so, Slyven it was. He’d been gifted one of the fastest steeds from the Royal Stables, if the Stablemaster was to be believed...but even still, by the time he reached Yvelte, he felt as if weeks had passed by. Would there even be anything left? There had to be scavengers that would have picked the battle site clean by now. 

But hopefully, they would have overlooked anything useful. 

No one spared him a second glance as he rode into Yvelte to resupply. After all, his name and his title were known across Monstrom and Sovredes, but it wasn’t as if the majority of people ever saw an Arbiter in their lifetime. The same way many of them probably didn’t even know what King Asgore looked like, unless they made trips up to New Home. 

He _did_ , however, draw an uncanny look from the monster vendor who specialized in Slyven fodder and care. 

“Huh,” the old cat monster croaked, peering at his Slyven. The reins and saddles that the creature had come with - gilded finery that no regular monster would ever think of wasting money on - had been traded for leather pieces instead, but apparently the elderly monster knew enough about Slyvens to be able to spot something extra in the beast itself. “That’s a fine Slyven you’ve got there, boy.”

“thanks. newly bred carrier,” he lied easily, counting out the gold needed for the Slyven fodder. He _could_ have used his Arbiter Seal to get what he wanted - one of the privileges of the Arbiter, the ability to get anything he or she needed without paying for it - but he liked the element of surprise. Once the Aribter Seal started being flashed around, people would be talking about the Arbiter being wherever he was for _weeks_ , and there went any chance he had at remaining undetected. 

And he had a feeling that he most definitely wanted to be remain undetected while he investigated these human attacks. 

“Trade ‘ya for ‘im.”

“nope,” Sans said, grinning at the annoyed cat monster, who huffily accepted his gold and passed him the bag of grain. That was the last of the supplies he needed to fill up on before heading off road into the wilds. 

“Where ‘ya headed, then?”

“southern sovredes,” Sans shrugged, tying up the bag of grain with the rest of the supplies alongside the saddle. “got some family walking the path of angels. they’re staying in home for a while.”

“Eh heh heh. Superstitious folk,” the cat monster cackled, with a wheezing sort of quality to it. “Your family believes that ‘ol Angel myth, eh?”

_These Angels...such a curious thing..._

...Damnit. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen that lie, of all things. It’d been the easiest explanation for a monster heading south towards South Sovredes, true, but he could have...could have just said something else. _Anything_ else.

He remained silent for a moment, though his grin remained amicable as he finished tying the last knots to secure everything on the saddle. “you could say that,” he finally commented, turning to flash the other monster a wink. “but if you ask me pal, i’d say my family’s _myth_ ing the point of that old lore.”

The pun got him an appreciative chortle from the old monster. “Yeah? And what exactly _is_ the point, boy?”

_What do you think, Sans?_

“...heh heh.” The cat monster blinked in surprise as he abruptly pulled himself into the saddle of the Slyven, glancing down at the vendor. Sans pulled his hood up over his skull as his Slyven skirted a bit, before settling down. “welp.”

_This seems very, very..._

“now you’re gettin’ it, pal.”

Sans didn’t bother looking backwards as he kicked his Slyven forwards, sending it galloping towards the gate as he left the cat vendor behind in confusion and annoyance. No guard blinked an eyelid at his quick exit, well used to travelers stopping only to resupply, and he made his way back towards the Accordian Road. 

And just as soon as he was out of sight from Yvelte, he turned his Slyven south. Off of the road and into the wilds. 

The attack site was just south of Yvelte, halfway between the town and the border to Southern Sovredes. Two hours ride at most - maybe longer, to get his Slyven across wooded hills and forested terrain - and he’d finally be able to start his investigation. 

And hopefully get some answers, for all of monsterkind.

_I N T E R E S T I N G_

 

* * *

 

It was, in fact, about two hours into his traipsing through the woods that his Slyven, which had been patiently maneuvering across the uneven ground all this time, paused next to a tree, took a deep breath, and gave a full body shudder. 

The was just the first clue. The second came only a few minutes later as the smell of death hit him full on. 

Rotting bodies tended to have a distinct stench to them, after all, and considering how out of the way this particular attack had been, it was no wonder the bodies had yet to be cleaned up...if there was even any attempt being made to clean them up. No one much cared for bodies left to rot out in the wild.

They’re weren’t disturbing any merchants, travelers, or townspeople, so why bother?

Sans wondered, briefly, what it said about him, that the smell of decaying bodies didn’t bother him anymore, either.  

It was a power apparently shared with his Slyven, which was somewhat surprising, considering that the Slyven in the Royal Stables didn’t see much action. They were there for the royal family’s personal use, after all, not for a common soldier to go riding into battle with. Still, his Slyven bore with it patiently aside from the occasional shudder along its flanks, and kicked up no fuss even as the first body came into view. 

Sans hopped down from the mount, trusting its training to keep it stationary as he slowly traversed towards the body. He bent down to study it closer for a moment, before he carefully rolled it face up.

It was a human, that much was certain. His face was scrunched up in pain - probably due to that gut wound - forever frozen in the moment of his death. The smell may have signaled his degenerating state, but the body was still fresh enough to show no signs of decay other than a pale face. Nothing of his features seemed to particularly stand out, nor make him seemingly more susceptible to an attack than another human. Not pretty or handsome, nor delicate in the way a noble human would be. Just...average.

He had nothing else on him - at least, nothing of note. No packs, no supplies. It’s possible he could have been carrying nothing, sure...but more than likely, scavengers had beat him to the site, and had stripped it clean. 

He’d be lucky to find _anything_ noteworthy now. 

That was just the first one, however. A little ways up the ridge, he found a second body. A woman this time, though just as average looking as the first human. Nothing to indicate that she may have been targeted for anything other than the fact that she was a human. 

 _merchants?_ Sans thought to himself as he studied the woman’s face. _traveling off road to avoid attacks?_

Though if _that_ were the case, where was the escort? A merchant _never_ traveled without an armed escort, even _if_ they took the Accordian Road. If the attack had been prompted by greed from a group of bandits or thieves, then he should have seen some dead guards along the way. 

...Then again, scavengers often took weapons and armor as well, not just valuables. _Anything_ that they could sell off to the nearest vendor. 

There had to be more. The attacks so far had always targeted small groups of humans, between two to five traveling together. Where were the rest of the bodies?

Not anywhere near, in any case. Sans glanced around for a moment longer, before sighing, taking a deep breath -

\- and snapping open his magical eye. 

The spirit plane tended to always be a convoluted mess, which made looking into it a lot less useful than one might think. Certainly not for something as mundane as getting directions - the intricacies were much more likely to lead someone _astray_ rather than help them - but luckily, he wasn’t looking for help from the floating orbs of white light that were milling around everywhere.  

He could just look at them and see. And listen. He was their _soul_ audience.

...Pfft.

There. Whispers. Probably from the souls that had died in this area, still fresh enough to have left an impression. Souls tended to quickly lose distinguishing features in the spirit plane, dependent on what had caused the soul to form. He was lucky that the souls in this area were still new enough to have not simply become balls of light, like all the others. 

But they sounded like they were...laughing. 

They were coming from the west, too, as if they had been trying to escape in that direction. Sans followed them. 

It was a short walk. Through a particularly thick patch of thicket, through a dwindling set of trees...the whispers were getting louder. Sans climbed up the last set of rocks leading to the clearing -

\- and almost toppled right back off them.

It was a near save, he ended up having to pinwheel his arms for the nearest tree. But he prevented himself from falling backwards onto his skull as he pushed himself upright again, even as his eye took in the building in front of him.

It had been a small fort of some kind, once upon a time. That much was clear. More than half of it was nothing but rubble, with the other half comprising of a crumbling tower and two shabby walls. He had no idea which country the fort might have belonged to - these lands had been human lands once, he thought - but it was impossible to tell from the outside. No hint of a banner or insignia remained. 

Although, all of those details paled in comparison to the red mist that dripped down from its walls.

Souls lost their color and vividness as the years passed. Some could linger for centuries, depending - what feelings had spawn the souls, what sort of death the physical body had died. It varied. But in general, the _intent_ of a person in life was much more powerful than the actual physical life. Powerful intent and feeling tended to have a lasting effect on the spirit plane, moreso than any physical action did. 

And with the way the red mist dribbled down from the walls, as if the very fort itself was _bleeding..._

There had been _intent_ in that fort. To kill? To defend? To stand firm in the face of an attack? He wasn’t sure. 

All he knew for certain was that the red mist was concentrated towards the tower, towards the in-tact section of the fort rather than the crumbled ruins on the other side, and Sans slowly made his way towards the entrance doors. The whispers picked up as he got closer, louder and more distinct now, and he struggled not to shudder as one particular whisper brushed straight up against his ear. Because now he could tell that the whispers weren’t laughing.

They were _crying._

Sans blinked out his magical eye, took a moment to allow the physical plane to steady him, and pushed open the door. 

If he’d thought the woods were bad, they were _nothing_ compared to the stench of death that rose to meet him directly in the doorway. He had to struggle to get inside for a moment, shoving at the bodies that were blocking the way, before he was able to fully pull himself into the fort. 

The entranceway was littered with bodies. All human, all of them wearing normal travel clothing. Just from a quick glance, he counted about twenty bodies - more than _four times_ the number of humans that were usually targeted. And he was quick to rule out monsters as the attackers; the humans had, very clearly, been fighting each other. The bodies continued trailing from the entrance foyer through the southern hallway, leading towards the tower.

...This didn’t make any sense. 

There was no distinction between the bodies and the clothing they wore, no similarities. It was as if a random group of travelers had attacked an equally random group of travelers. Even a ragtag team of bandits tended to dress in decrepit and ill fitting clothes that might distinguish them, but these humans...

They were almost _too_ normal looking. Nothing made them stand out as potential targets, _or_ attackers.

Other than the fact that they were humans.

_No survivors._

Sans carefully picked his way through the hall, stepping over the bodies and looking at each and every one of them. No weapons, no armor, but clear signs of sword wounds and magical scorch marks along the walls; marks that ran _both_ ways. The way that the bodies had fallen...most were facing towards the tower, down the hallway, with one or two facing opposite. It’s as if one group, a smaller group, had found themselves cornered against the tower door and had tried to press back a much larger group that had pursued them. 

_No witnesses._

And if it really had been a larger group cornering a smaller group, then...why were the losses so great on the part of the former? They were all dressed like simple travelers, but the smaller group had apparently held its own against the much larger group, showing skill and competence. Either some of the attackers had finally decided the profit wasn’t worth the effort, and had fled the area, or...

The smaller group had ensured that every last attacker had died with them. 

The last remainders of that smaller group had died with their backs to the tower door, where the largest pile of bodies was. The door was open. Sans stepped inside.

The upstairs was immediately out - the stairs that might have once lead to the top of the tower were nothing more than pieces of rubble. All that was in the circular room was some overturned furniture, a fallen tapestry, and one last human body. Streaks of blood followed the body from the doorway, to where the human had collapsed in the middle of the room. He’d been cornered against the door, wounded, and had tried to crawl inside the tower. 

Abandoning his fellows in arms to save his own skin? That was the only conclusion he could come up with, why this one human had managed to make it inside the tower without the attackers putting a stop to his attempt at escape. 

...That, or...he had been trying to reach for something. Maybe a weapon, or a shield. Something. 

The torn tapestry was partially covering up the human’s outstretched arm, but the other arm ended in a tight fist. Frowning, Sans bent down to turn the hand over. He struggled with the hand for a moment, its fingers tightened in defiance, but was finally able to pry them open. 

A thin necklace tumbled out from the human’s palm. 

He started. The very _last_ thing he had expected to see on the battlefield was _jewelry._ The entire place had been picked clean of weapons and potentially armor, and yet the scavengers had missed _this?_ Seemed very unlikely.

It was a beautiful necklace, only marred by the blood that coated it. Simply made, nothing very extravagant. In fact, the only thing that stood out from it was its centerpiece, intricately crafted and a direct contrast to the rest of the necklace. It was small and delicately made, with a spiraling design that was centered around a white crystal. And the crystal itself -

Sans blinked, and stared. And then stared closer.

There was a rune on the crystal.

Faint and hardly noticeable, but there to the keen of eye. He had no idea what the actual rune was - needed to inspect it closer, impossible to see right now - but it was definitely there. 

A necklace by itself might have been explainable as a token of some sort. A gift for his wife, being observed and looked at in the man’s last moments of life. But with a _rune_ on it, well...that implied a whole lot more. 

It was impossible to believe that the scavengers would have overlooked a necklace like this, though. Sans struggled to ponder this mystery as he gave the corpse a slight push, rolling it onto its side. 

Ah, a dagger. The first weapon he’d found, laying underneath his stomach. A small variant, easily concealable and quick to draw. The man had probably drawn it during the fight and had kept it with him as he’d crawled away, but had lost his grip on it as he’d bled out. That, or he’d discarded the dagger in favor of reminiscing on his now widowed wife. 

Maybe something had scared the scavengers off before they could pick up _everything._ After all, everyone knew that you had to be quick to a battle site to be able to get away with anything good. Scavengers had probably only tried picking this place within one day of the attack, and if the first wave had missed this corpse, no others would have bothered trying, knowing anything worthwhile would have already been taken. With a grunt, Sans completely rolled the corpse over onto its back.

Something shifted under the tapestry with the movement. 

He reacted instinctively, snapping his fingers to Summon two Gaster Blasters into existence behind him, their glowing eyes lighting the tower in a forceful blue glow. But no further movement came from beneath the tapestry - everything returned to stillness. He heard the Blasters’ rattling breaths as he held his own, edged forward to grasp at the corner of the tapestry...and slowly pulled it upwards.

The man’s hand, the one that had been hidden underneath the tapestry...it was gripping an ankle. 

Sans stood back up, left hand raised to let his Gaster Blaster’s energy blasts fly at a moment’s notice, and in one abrupt movement - ripped the tapestry off and away.

Another corpse, a human female. Dressed in modest traveling clothes and covered in blood, just like all the others. She was, perhaps, prettier than the others that he had seen, youthful looking. Out of all the human corpses, she was just about the only human Sans could see being a reason for an attack, depraved men seeking to satiate their lust on an unarmed woman.

...In fact -

Sans peered closer at the corpse. The human female was definitely different than the others, her looks said it all. She was tanned, but had none of the wear and tear on her skin that most humans had simply from, well. _Living._ And traveling, and working. Even through all the blood, he could clearly see that she had no wrinkles, no scars, no blemishes of any kind. Only nobles who’d never worked a day in their lives had the sort of features she did. 

It was obvious that she was the anomaly in the group, and Sans dismissed his Gaster Blasters in favor of looking over her unclenched hands. Unmarked like the rest of her, except her right hand had what looked like the beginnings of a blister on it. 

Grabbed a weapon to defend herself, then? For the very first time in her life, more than likely. 

Her corpse looked to be in better shape than all the others. None of them were starting to show signs of decay yet, but this one in particular...she still looked healthy, if paler than what was probably her natural skin tone. On impulse, he pressed two fingers against her neck, and tried not to feel disappointed when he felt nothing pulsing with life against his fingertips. 

But still...something was just not right here. Sans glanced down her body towards the ankle that was still grasped in the other corpse’s hand. 

No sense. No damn sense at _all._

She couldn’t be a noblewoman traveling with her escort - why would one of her traveling companions try to stop her from fleeing by grabbing onto her ankle? Maybe to try and direct her towards a certain passage, grab her attention while he lay slowly dying on the ground, but...the grip he had on her ankle, even in death...

He’d been trying to prevent her from running. Sans was nearly certain of that. 

...Welp.

He had a theory, for the most part, but he’d need to return to Yvelte and confirm it. Sans stood up from where he’d been bent over the corpse of the girl to return to the man, bending down to scoop up the necklace and the dagger. The necklace, he’d take back to Asgore for his Recondites to study. But the dagger, he felt he only needed to go as far as Yvelte to cement his suspicions. 

He slipped them under his traveling cloak, and the movement had him turning back around towards the female corpse. For one moment, the light shining from the outside seemed to fall on her deathly still face, making it seem brighter than it actually was. 

She had to be young. Maybe even a youth just verging on adulthood, though her looks might have made her seem younger than she actually was. Probably pampered for her entire life, only to die a slow death in an abandoned fort miles from anyone else. 

“...sorry kid,” he said to nobody, because even if the remnants of her existence still lingered in the spirit plane, they couldn’t hear him. He wasn’t sure why he was talking at all, only that it felt...right, to say something. To wish her a good life, beyond this one. “wish it could’ve been different for ‘ya.”

She sighed.

He almost missed it, talking as he was. 

But he heard it all the same, startled, and almost snapped his Gaster Blasters back into existence as he stared at the corpse for a full five seconds. Before he hastily dropped to his knees, bending his skull low enough over the corpse to feel the hair on her forehead brushing against his cheekbones as he turned his ear towards her lips. 

...There. Again.

A breath. So faint that it might as well have not existed in the first place. But it was there. Sans moved away from her head, pressing his fingers back against the side of her neck. 

And _there_ , so faint, so faint that it, too, might as well have not existed at all. But the pulse did. The _breaths_ did. And as Sans stared down at the not-corpse of the girl, he felt something like _justice_ biting at the edges of his grin. 

Looks like the attackers hadn’t broken their survival streak, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> So, this idea has been kicking around in my head, ever since I wrote a fantasy-themed prompt for Frans week. It eventually got to be too much to keep contained, so I decided to start writing. This is my first attempt at a story with an ongoing plot and progression, so hopefully I do a good job at keeping everything on track. I've got a lot planned for this story, so I'm super excited to be starting it. 
> 
> If you're reading my Little Tales from The Underground story, don't worry! I'm still working on chapters for that story as well. But now I have two stories to get inspiration for, so that if I get tired or burnt out with one story, I can stop working on it for a while and switch to the other one, and vice versa. I can't say that updates will switch off between the two stories on a consistent basis (I may post three chapters in a row for this story and one for LTFU, for example), but I'm definitely not abandoning LTFU, not by a long shot!
> 
> If there is a lot of demand for answers, or a lot of confusion, I may get a Tumblr account so I can answer questions and put up things like timelines or maps, to help all of you keep track of what's going on as well. But for the first couple of chapters, things will be a bit confusing. More explanation about the world state will unfold as the chapters progress as well, so things are meant to be somewhat unclear at first. 
> 
> Just one thing to make a note of for right now - this fantasy setting is more of a fantasy steampunk setting, rather than pure fantasy. This story takes a lot of inspiration from FFXII, if you've ever played it. Things like airships and machines exist, but they tended to run mostly on magic energy, like the dues ex machina of most fantasy steampunk settings...magical crystals! There's going to be a lot of crystals in this story folks, just saying.
> 
> In any case, I hope you all liked this first chapter! Thank you so much for reading, and please look forward to future updates!


	2. Catching Up to Friend and Foe

 

“Oh, the poor dear,” the elderly alligator monster tutted, her glassy eyes scrunched upwards as she gently swiped at the human’s forehead with a damp rag. “Will she be alright, do you think?”

“I’ve sent for the town healer,” her husband promised, patting his wife’s arm in a comforting manner. Sans didn’t need to ask to know that there were some old, lingering feelings there, probably revolving around a lost son or daughter. “Don’t you worry sir, we’ll keep an eye out on her.”

“thanks,” he said amiably, hands held loosely in his pockets as he grinned at the old innkeeper couple. “i’ll be back soon, hopefully she’ll be all _bed_ der then.” The male Alligator looked confused, but his wife chuckled as he winked at the pair, before heading back towards the door. “oh, and. buddies?”

The two perked up again. “Yes sir?” said the female.

He glanced over his shoulder at the two of them. “no one else comes in or out of this room.”

Heh. Was that a shiver he saw? Didn’t matter anyways as Sans didn’t bother waiting for a response, loping down the stairs at a sedated pace to end up back outside in Yvelte.

Immediately he got looks and stares, and even a very pointed whisper from a young Jackel monster to his friend. At the moment, only the gate guards knew of his status - he’d had to use his Arbiter Seal to get past the gates with a bloodied and unconscious girl thrown across his saddle, unfortunately.

But riding into Yvelte with said bloodied and unconscious girl thrown across his saddle had raised eyebrows all across the marketplace and up to the inn, where he’d entrusted his surviving witness to the care of the elderly monster couple. After all, it wasn’t every day a skeleton came riding into the small town on a magnificent Slyven, left soon after, and _then_ returned in half a day’s time with a new traveling companion. 

A new bloodied, and unconscious, traveling companion. 

There wasn’t much he could do about it, though. He had to get some information from the town, and monsters were going to talk anyways. 

So Sans ignored the monsters that stared at him as he passed, walking at a casual pace towards the general goods shop. He had two choices here, armory or general goods, and he was willing to bet the general goods store was the more likely of the two options.

What use did an armorer have for old weapons and armor, after all?

A monster with a vague carrot looking shape was sitting on the counter as Sans ducked inside, looking for all the world like she might be better suited to sitting on one of the shelves. The monster wobbled around when he entered however, and smiled brightly up at him. 

“Welcome, sir!” she said in a high-pitched voice. “Might I interest you in some of our fine wares?”

“sure can,” Sans said, strolling right up to the counter to lean an elbow against it, resting his head against his hand. The vegetable monster hopped backwards in some alarm, storefront manner becoming nervous at his invasive approach. “i’m looking for some weapons, maybe some armor.”

“I’m afraid we don’t carry many of those sir. What kind are you looking for, exactly?” the other monster asked, still keeping up appearances. Though she glanced around towards the empty entranceway to her shop.

Sans grinned. This monster was making it too easy. “daggers. knives. some gauntlets, maybe.”

The vegetable monster brightened, loosing some of her nervousness. “Well then you’re in luck sir! I traded for a very fine dagger just the other day, a very fine quality!” She turned around to hop off of the counter, presumably to go fetch the weapon - but she flinched as he suddenly slapped an arm down onto the countertop, blocking her path.

“just the one?” he asked mildly, as she turned back to look up at him. “c’mon pal. i’m thinking there _armor_ that you’ve got in the back, am i right?”

She blinked, very rapidly. “Sir, I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” she said, her voice coming out a tad shakily. She looked like she very much wanted to bolt, poor thing. She really didn’t have the makings to be a shop owner, if she caved under pressure just this easily. “I-if you’re looking for arms and armor, you’ll probably be better served visiting the armory across the - ”

“been there,” Sans interrupted, leaning in closer and making the vegetable monster gulp. “don’t have what i’m looking for. but you, buddy? i’m willing to bet you’ve got exactly what i need.”

He knew why she was trying so hard, why she hadn’t admitted to the whole stock. Scavengers, stealers of the dead, were viewed as the lowest of the low. And those that _bought_ from scavengers were greedy and despicable people, buying from the dead just to make a profit. 

Sans didn’t know if he believed _all_ that, in reality. Scavengers were, more often than not, those that were at the ends of their ropes, and buyers just about the same. He wasn’t superstitious enough to believe in curses or eternally damned souls or anything like that, either. 

But the imagined disdain was still there as the vegetable monster shuddered, looking very much like she was contemplating leaping off of the counter, regardless of where she landed. 

“look pal, i’m not trying to cause a fuss here.” Well...that’s a _little_ of what he’d been trying to do, but Sans was willing to ease up a bit if she started cooperating. “i’m just looking for information. just lemme see the merchandise.”

For a moment he was sure he’d have to use his Arbiter Seal, force the vegetable monster into giving him what he wanted - but then she abruptly shuddered again, and nodded hesitantly. “W-what do you want to see?”

He raised an eyebrow. There. Not so hard, was it.

“like i said. daggers, knives. any armor you bought in the past week.” Sans casually fingered a groove in the wooden countertop as he spoke, though his eyes remained locked onto the other monster’s own gaze. “maybe some jewelry, too. would’ve probably been a big haul, scavengers may have even come to you a couple of times over.”

He ignored the way she shuddered again at the dreaded word, worriedly glancing around as if another customer might have wandered into the store and overheard him speaking. 

“sweetheart, listen, doesn’t matter to me how you make your gold,” he added to seal the deal, and winked at the monster as she looked at him in disbelief. “frankly, i don’t _carrot_ all, pfft. i just need a little info. that’s it.”

That finally did it. She was still looking a bit pale, but the other monster finally nodded. “Okay. T-this way, sir.”

 _This way_ turned out to be the back storage room, where - laying in plain sight - four daggers were resting in a basket, looking distinctly out of place next to the sacks of flour, dried jerky, and pots and pans. No less than eight swords were also spread haphazardly on the floor, along with five scabbards, two axes, and a rather fancy looking belt. 

“this all of it?”

The vegetable monster nodded frantically, as if afraid he might not believe her. “Yes yes, this is all of it, I swear. No armor, no jewelry. The...” Again, she looked around, and lowered her voice far enough for him to have to lean over to hear her. _“You know_...they brought all this stuff about a week ago. Took them two days to get it all over here.”

“how many of ‘em?” he questioned.

“Two! Just the two.” The other monster nodded again, seeming more at ease now that he hadn’t gone screaming from the store about her being a buyer from the dead. “I thought they were just trading in old weapons for new ones. I-if I’d had known - ”

“yeah yeah,” he interrupted, “save it.” The vegetable monster looked put out for a moment, ready to insist again that she’d been unaware she’d bought from scavengers, but the creak of the door alerted them both to new customers. She glanced back towards him and Sans raised an eyebrow, tilting his head towards the doorway. The monster hurriedly went to deal with the new customer, shutting the door behind her as she left.  

The Candlit Crystal from up above was providing enough light, anyways. Let her keep her peace for her customers. Gave him time to think.

He really didn’t need to, but Sans drew out the dagger he’d found underneath the corpse from underneath his cloak. The make and design was exactly the same as the other four, though his was still bloodied while the shopkeeper, or the scavengers, had taken the time to at least attempt to clean up the weapons. He could still see blood along the edges of them. 

The daggers stood out from the rest of the weapons. The swords and the axes, though sturdy weapons, weren’t the best quality, while the craftsmanship of the daggers was...not exceedingly extravagant by any stretch of the imagination, but definitely a pay grade above the average farmer, worker, or everyman’s salary. 

But perhaps the biggest question mark of all?

Every single weapon, except for a single sword, looked new. 

From dagger to sword to axe, they all had sharp edges, and shone to a fault. None of them were dulled, or showed wear and tear along the bladed edges. It was as if every other weapon aside from the one sword had been bought recently. 

And it was that sword that Sans bent over, pulling it free from its confines with the rest of the other weapons. It had the same shoddy quality that spoke of low value as the other swords, except it had clearly been in use for a while. Had they run out of funds to buy one more new blade? And for what purpose? Sans felt his grin tighten in exasperation as he expertly flipped the handle in his grip, turning it onto its other side.

...There.

Barely noticeable, but there was a symbol carved into the handle. Stylized like bandit groups often did to differentiate themselves from both authority and other groups. The symbol was an archaic letter from the olden monster language, one that - with his vaguely remembered lessons from Gaster’s workshop - looked like a symbol for _ascension,_ or something similar. 

Though _this_ symbol was, contrary to that ancient alphabet, upside down. 

Or _rather_ , it was right side up. In the days of BT, Before Time, ancient monster language had been written a certain way. Excavations and unearthed artifacts told them that the language had changed at some point in history, to the vaguely similar but reversed catalogue of symbols that were still sometimes used now in the days of AT, After Time. 

Basically, the ancient alphabet looked like an upside down version of the more modernized monster alphabet, even though most monsters used the common tongue anyways. 

But _this_ ancient monster symbol was right side up on the handle. 

And even aside from all the weapons, there was a distinct lack of - if the shopkeeper was to believed - armor, or any protective gear besides. 

 _a large group,_ Sans mused to himself, slowly running a finger against the blade of the sword he held, _and a small group._

Five easily concealed daggers, no armor. Magic scorch marks along the walls, going back and forth. New weapons, except for one older weapon with a vaguely familiar symbol on it. A large group supposedly eradicated by a much smaller group, odds that should have never been possible amongst ordinary travelers. 

Welp. The scavenged weapons had basically confirmed what he’d been thinking since the fort.

...Except for one, small, problem.

How did the survivor fit into all of this? Every instinct in Sans told him that the human woman had, for some reason or another, been in the protection of the smaller group of humans, and had survived due to sheer luck. Maybe when she’d been knocked unconscious and the tapestry had fallen onto her. There was still the possibility that she was a noblewoman of some kind being transported in secret, of course - her features seemed to suggest it. 

He supposed if that was the case, then they’d be hearing from Sovredes very, very soon. 

But the strangeness of the male corpse, the one that had been holding onto her ankle...he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. 

There was also no other jewelry that had been sold to the shopkeeper. Again, she could have been lying, but he had a feeling she was cooperating with him. She’d been pretty intimidated. 

Of course...all the potentially missing items might have been sold elsewhere, or even stayed with the scavengers. But the possibility was low. The stigma and superstitions on stealing from the dead usually made scavengers want to dump off their spoils as quickly as possible, and if they found a buyer who didn’t ask too many questions and was willing to buy a large chunk of merchandise all at once...welp.

They were usually too relieved to get picky about their buyers. 

The vegetable monster was still haggling the price of a bag of rice with the customer as he walked out from the back storage space, but he saw the worried look she shot over to him. Sans pressed a finger to his lips as he winked at the other monster, and ignored the relieved look on her face as he exited back out into the street with the sword now wrapped in some spare tarp and bundled under his arm.

He had a report ready to give to Asgore, but it would be pretty nice if the human had decided to wake up in the meantime, so he could get her eye account on the entire thing. 

But he was, as with most things in life, sorely disappointed. 

“She hasn’t woken up yet, sir,” the female Alligator said, quietly, sitting on one side of the bed with a clean rag in her hands, apparently still taking it upon herself to mop up the girl’s forehead. Sans resisted the urge to sigh as he slowly closed the door behind him, setting aside the sword as he studied the human.

The wife had obviously taken the time to bathe and clean up all the blood, apparently too skilled from years of working at the inn to let her blindness stop her from basic care. From what was exposed from the covers, he could see that the human was wearing a plain white tunic, and probably some equally plain pants. She looked a bit healthier, now that she was cleaned up...but she was _still._ Almost unnaturally so. She didn’t even look like she was _breathing._ In fact, if it hadn’t been for the very faint sheen of sweat he could see reflecting off her neck and face, he might have thought she’d died during his visit to the general goods store.

“Healer says she’s healthy and hale, but a wee bit... _quiet,”_ the alligator monster went on to say, basically repeating his own very accurate reading on the human. “He doesn’t have much a say on remedies, only that we keep feedin’ her while she sleeps.” 

Sans stalked forward to take a closer look as the innkeeper continued mopping up her forehead. “any injuries?”

“None so’s he’s seen ‘em,” was the answer, and Sans frowned. No visible injuries...not even to the head? A head injury would have at _least_ explained why she wasn’t waking up...but if that was out of the picture, then the only possible explanation...

Unwittingly, Sans fingered the necklace he was holding in his pocket. 

The alligator didn’t notice, still continuing her ministrations even as her hand on the human’s forehead shook slightly, and Sans pretended not to notice. “I’ve seen soldiers get knocked on the head and sleep like this...sometimes they don’t never wake up.”

A son, or a daughter. 

He had no idea what to say, so he said the only thing he could. “i’ll look out for her on the way,” he said. He needed to report back to Asgore as soon as possible. Key survivor or no, he couldn’t just wait around until she woke up. “she’s coming back with me.”

The elderly Alligator’s hand stilled a bit, and her mouth tightened like she very much wanted to argue with him...but there was no use trying it. He knew that, and so did she, even _if_ she didn’t know yet that he was the Arbiter and that she really had no say in the matter whatsoever. “Back,” she questioned, or tried to question. He waited politely as she cleared her throat. “Back where?”

The lie almost fell from his lips, out of instinct. Back to Southern Sovredes to her family, or back to the jail cells to pay for her crimes. Something. Anything. But glancing at the elderly monster from underneath his hood, Sans found that, for once, he could say nothing but the truth.

“new home,” he said, and the grin on his face felt kind of flat as she stiffened in surprise. “the royal palace. she’ll get the help she needs, pal. trust me.” 

He wasn’t sure why she believed him - _he_ wouldn’t have believed him. But the elderly monster only let out a brief sigh, before she nodded slightly. “Good,” she said, and pat one of the human’s prone hands, “very good.”

Who this human reminded the innkeeper of, he had no idea. But whoever they were, he hoped they were at peace. 

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly enough, the return trip to New Home took roughly the same amount of time as the journey to Yvelte, even with the extra baggage courtesy of one human female. Sans did his best to keep her constrained so that her head wouldn’t flop around like a sack of grain, but if he was right in his theory, a little jostling wouldn’t matter with her particular ailment anyways. 

Still, it was a relief to see the rising spires of the Royal Palace in the distance after five days riding. He didn’t even bother stopping his Slyven all the way; hopped down while it was slowing down, the human girl in his arms, and ignored the startled guards standing at the entrance gates. One of them recognized him immediately, but the other started forward, spear half-lowered. “Halt! Declare your - ”

Sans shifted the human in his arms to raise up his right hand, even as he continued walking without even a pause in his stride. The Aribter Seal that was seared into his palm immediately shut up the protesting guard, who looked embarrassed as he walked past. On any other day, Sans thought he would have paused for small talk, maybe praised the guy for doing his job.  

But right at that moment, he didn’t really have time to stop and make pleasantries. The marble hallways of the palace passed by in a blur, along with the several faces that looked startled at his approach as he made his way towards the healer wards. He’d drop off the human before going to Asgore.

As it turned out, he’d only have to do the former. The big fluffy goat was in the healer wards, sitting beside one of the beds occupied by what looked like a soldier. But at his entrance the King - along with everyone else, really - turned.

And gaped.

“uh,” he said eloquently, grinning at the assembled goat and healers, “not to be a bother or anything, but i’ve got one _heal_ of a problem, here.”

“Sans!” Asgore blustered as he stood up, and Sans walked over to an unoccupied bed, carefully laying the limp body onto it. “What is - who is _this?”_

“asgore, buddy. meet my good friend, unconscious witness,” Sans introduced, taking one of the human female’s hands and waving at the goat monster with it. “unconscious witness, asgore here is a big ‘ol fluffybuns, don’t let him get your _goat.”_

The milling healers all looked affronted at his treatment of a potentially injured person, but Asgore seemed too preoccupied with the person in question to really notice, or even to react to the much hated pun. “Howdy,” the King whispered, bending down a bit over the woman as if he might actually disturb her by talking too loudly. “My dear child. Where is she injured?”

“she’s not,” he answered, which was the cue for Asgore to look up at him confusedly. “least not that i’ve been able to tell. but maybe they can wake her up.” Again, his suspicions told him they wouldn’t have any more luck than the healer in Yvelte had had, but hey. It was worth a shot. 

Asgore nodded briefly, making a sweeping gesture towards the healers. “See to it that she is cared for,” he instructed, and that prompted no less than five of the healers to swarm forward around the human girl, the others dispersing back to the other beds. 

Which finally left the King free to walk towards him, worry in his face. “Sans, I’m glad to see you’ve returned so quickly,” the goat said, and Sans tried not to feel guilt at the news he was about to deliver. “Have you put a stop to these attacks?”

“...noooot, really,” he said evasively, glancing around towards the nearby healers and soldiers. He tilt his head, and despite his disappointment, Asgore followed at an even pace. 

He’d been prepared to lead them back to the privacy of the throne room, but to his surprise, Asgore took it a step further, taking the lead and directing him towards the private conference chambers nearby. The room was small and cozy, looking more like it belonged in a quaint cottage home than the Royal Palace, but Sans wouldn’t deny Asgore his comforts as the goat monster turned around to face him expectantly. “Well?” he said.

“you want the short answer, or long answer?” he questioned, even though he knew he’d be giving both anyways.

“The short answer.”

He shrugged, and grinned. “we’re being framed by the humans.”

He’d pretty much been expecting it, but Asgore’s stunned silence spiraled for longer than he’d actually anticipated. So much so that Sans was prepared to snap his fingers to grab the old goat’s attention, until the other monster literally shook his head, floppy ears flying all over the place, and sat down heavily in his favorite chair. 

“The...the long answer.”

“long answer...” he said slowly. Not because he didn’t know the long answer, but because the theory was still so incredulous that putting it all into words had him stalling for just a little bit longer. “i checked out the last attack site. south of yvelte.”

Asgore nodded, content to not rush his explanation and listen to every single word he was saying.

“there were no monster bodies, only humans. and, every single human was dressed in plain travel clothing.” Sans pulled out the dagger from his pocket, using his magic to float it over towards the King. “went to a shopkeeper in yvelte afterwards - to find what the scavengers picked? nothing but weapons, pal.” He went so far as to gesture towards the dagger the goat monster was carefully turning in his grasp. “five of those daggers, some swords, and an axe. no armor. notice anything, buddy?”

It was clear that Asgore wasn’t picking up the significance yet, but he didn’t demand for him to get to the point. He simply shook his head as he studied the dagger. 

“all the weapons, ‘cept one, look like that. brand new and unused. but the daggers, see, were definitely better quality than the others. trust me pal, you would’ve thought they were _knife_ too.”

Asgore’s right eye twitched slightly, but he hummed thoughtfully underneath his breath, glancing back up at him. “All except one?”

He nodded, and pulled back his cloak to reveal the sword he had taken from Yvelte strapped to his belt. “its got some sort of symbol on it - probably a clan symbol. i’m gonna have it checked out.”

The King nodded in turn, fully trusting him to chase down every possible alley for clues as he returned his attention to the dagger in his paws. “No armor,” he repeated slowly, “new weapons...” 

Sans waited.

“They were all...disguised? All of them?”

He nodded. “every last one of ‘em. both the attackers _and_ the targets.” He gestured towards the dagger again. “probably bought as many new weapons as they could to avoid any distinguishing designs. just regular ‘ol weapons - can’t tell where they came from.”

Asgore hummed again, still turning the dagger over in his paws. Probably less to keep inspecting it, and more to have something to do. “And what happened at the attack site?” he questioned. 

“...heh.” He grinned and shoved his hands into his pockets. “gets a little tricky, there.”

The goat monster blinked, but continued looking at him avidly as Sans recalled every little detail that had cemented his theory. 

“two groups, the attackers and the targets,” he said. “the attackers outnumbered them, but they picked the wrong targets - these guys were trained guards, or escorts. holed themselves up in a nearby ruin, fought tooth and nail to drive ‘em back...but, welp.” Sans drew a quick line over his throat. “they got done in. but not before taking out every single one of their attackers.”

“So the targets...they were traveling disguised, and were skilled enough to fend off a larger force,” Asgore mused. 

“yup,” Sans affirmed, leaning back against the wall slightly. “plus, there were signs of magic...from _both_ sides.”

 _That_ had Asgore starting, staring up at him in bemusement, but Sans could understand the confusion this time. Magic was...not exactly a _rarity_ in humans, but still not exactly a common thing either. Unless it was cultivated at an early age, humans tended to lose the ability to use magic anywhere near effectively, if at all, and common folk usually didn’t have the luxury of being able to study or coax magical abilities from their children. 

“lot more magic from the smaller group,” he added after a moment, remembering the pattern of magical scorch marks along the wall.

“But none of the survivors,” Asgore reasoned out, “ever reported human attackers.”

“nope. why would they?” Sans shrugged slightly, grin turning slightly bitter on his face. “where’ve most of the attacks happened?”

“Along the Accordian Road,” the King said, clearly not understanding what he was getting at...until he kept grinning at the goat monster, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Through the - through the mountain pass...”

“heh heh. see the _mountain_ of a problem, there?” He ducked his head downward as he pictured it himself, pictured traveling through the mountains, passing between all those boulders and rocks and trees. “easy place for an ambush. chaos, blood, magic flying everywhere - you barely manage to escape with your life.”

Sans glanced back up at Asgore, and wouldn’t have believed a face covered with white fur could turn any paler than it already was, but there it was anyways. “what’s easier to think? a human with magic attacking his own kind in the middle of monstrom? or a - ”

“ - monster attacking a human in the middle of Monstrom,” Asgore finished hollowly, paws now clenching the dagger still in his grasp.   

It was the reason, in fact, that fingers had been pointed at Monstrom for the attacks. Survivor accounts _always_ reported magic use from the attackers, even if they recalled little else. Again, Sans couldn’t really blame them - the heat of battle, the fear for one’s life, had a way of drowning out everything except the most basic of senses and memories. 

“not to mention,” he continued, like Asgore needed further burdens placed on him, “there’s always at least _one_ survivor, no matter how small the group is. seems like a pretty consistent burn record, if you ask me.”

As if they always _wanted_ the attacks to be reported, to get them noticed. To get Sovredes talking about them. To get the blame pointed towards Monstrom. 

Asgore cleared his throat briefly, and Sans didn’t bother rushing him. He could only imagine what the King was thinking through, now - thinking about how someone was actively trying to sabotage the peace that Monstrom and Sovredes had had for millennia...and for what? 

He still had no idea, but, welp. He was the Arbiter. 

He’d find out soon enough. 

“Well.”

Sans blinked, startled out of his thoughts as Asgore finally composed himself to begin talking again. “Perhaps when the child awakens, we will have some further answers to this mess.”

Oh...right. Oops. 

“yeah, about that,” he said slowly, rubbing a hand against the back of his skull. “i dunno how much help she’s gonna be.”

Asgore blinked. “Why is that, Sans?”

The human female had been the one anomaly to an otherwise solid theory. _Potentially_ it still worked, but...”think about it. didja notice anything strange about her?”

The goat monster blinked again, eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully as he thought back to the healer wards. “No, I don’t believe...well, she did seem rather delicate looking for a disguised guard...”

Sans nodded. “i think _she’s_ what the smaller group was guarding.”

“A human noblewoman?” Asgore guessed. “Traveling off the Accordian Road to avoid an attack?”

“that’s what i thought,” he admitted, “til i saw the guy next to her. his corpse was holding onto her ankle, and buddy, lemme tell ‘ya - he had no intention of letting her go. ever.” Sans paused, grin splitting his lips despite the revulsion he felt. “guy was committed, gotta _hand_ it to ‘im.”

He could tell that Asgore had no idea what to say in response, the same way he’d had no idea what to think when he’d stumbled across that odd picture. But over the days he’d traveled back to New Home, he’d perhaps figured out that little mystery, one that made, maybe, the slightest bit more sense.

“i think,” Sans said slowly, “that she was a prisoner.”

A beat of silence.

“A ...prisoner?” Asgore said incredulously. “That Sovredes was transporting to the north in disguise?”

“could be,” he afforded, though the same reason he’d thought she was a noblewoman was the same reason he doubted that to be the case. She didn’t have the look of a hardened prisoner, especially not one that required a roughly five guard escort. And not one that needed to be transferred to Northern Sovredes in _disguise_ and off-road. 

No, he had a somewhat darker interpretation. 

“but, if i had to place my gold?” Sans shrugged again. “i’d say she was kidnapped.”

“Ki - ” Asgore bleated, and the circumstances really shouldn’t have made him chuckle, but the sound always cracked him up. Sans did his best to restrain himself to a chortle as the goat monster breathed heavily, clearly indignant on behalf of the human female. _“Kidnapped?_ My word,” he said, distressed. 

“only thing that fits,” he answered, almost apologetically. “she tried to escape during the attack, one of the guards stopped her from running. explains why they were disguised, too, didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. just, uh...’bad luck’ that the attackers thought they were going after more defenseless travelers.”

“That poor child...her family must be ill with worry,” the King murmured heavily under his breath. But then his slumped posture straightened, a hard looking entering into his normally affable eyes. “We must send word to Southern Sovredes at once! We will find her family and return her home.”

Which is also what he’d been expecting from the protective goat monster, but he still held up his hands, palms forward. “woah, pal,” he cautioned, “not so fast.” At Asgore’s incredulous look he grinned, head tilting slightly. “think about it. this girl was kidnapped, and she just _magically_ ends up in monstrom? let’s just assume her family doesn’t know who took her - what’s the first thing they’re gonna think?”

Funny. Out of all the bad news he’d heard in the span of five minutes, _that_ bit of imagined insinuation had the King puffing up like an affronted Froggit. “I would _never_ tear a child away from her family!” he bellowed. 

“ _i_ know that, and all of _monstrom_ knows that, asgore,” Sans said consolingly. “but the humans? they’re gonna be looking to put the blame somewhere. ‘specially if she really _is_ a noblewoman who’s been kidnapped...or the daughter of one.” He shrugged, head tilting the other way. “and hey. buddy? if we return her in this condition? that’ll make us look even worse.”

Asgore was clearly flustered, puffed up in righteous indignation at the thought of a child separated from her family, but even in that outraged stated he could see the sense in his words, and deflated a moment later. “Then,” he started, casting his glance around towards the empty fireplace, “we must wait until she awakens. Perhaps then we may gain some more information on those responsible for the attacks, and she herself can tell us where her family is.”

That was probably the best they could hope for, all things considered. If nothing else, they’d at least be able to count on her good word and assurances to her family that they hadn’t kidnapped her, and had in fact rescued her from the slow death of starvation.

...Assuming she wouldn’t outright lie and claim that monsters had done this to her. If she turned out to be _that_ sort of human...welp.

Heh. It’d only be one more bloody notch under the Arbiter’s belt. 

“about that,” Sans said after a moment of silence had passed, “maybe have a couple of recondites in there, to take a look at the human.”

Asgore had gotten up from his chair at this point, seemingly intent on returning to his duties, but he paused and looked over at him curiously. “The Arcane Researchers?” he asked in bemusement. “Why?”

Sans only shrugged, pushing himself away from his lounging position against the wall. “just a feeling, pal,” he said, “you remember what i said about her injuries?”

The goat monster’s eyebrows furrowed downwards. “You said she didn’t have any.”

“yup,” he answered, looking up at the large monster. “no injuries, but she hasn’t woken up. i’m thinking there might be some magic involved, keeping her under. plus, i found something one of the humans had. an enchanted necklace. they might’ve stolen _it_ too, but either way...they had access to some pretty high level magic.” 

Asgore nodded thoughtfully, moving towards the doorway. “Very well, I’ll send for some of the researchers.” The King pulled open the door, graciously allowing him to exit first, and Sans waited as Asgore immediately had to fend off the anxious pages that had been milling around in the hallway, startled and nervous in front of the sudden appearance of their King.

He really didn’t know why. If they hadn’t learned by now that Asgore was just about the biggest stuffed animal toy in existence, they might as well just leave the palace. 

“In the meantime, I must return to the task at hand.” Sans blinked up at Asgore, who suddenly looked weary again. “These attacks must be stopped until the ones responsible are dealt with. I’ll issue more of the Royal Guard along the Accordian Road.”

“right.” He had something else he needed to look into, anyways. Hopefully a new lead, if the human female turned out to be a bust. “and hey. asgore?”

Asgore paused, looked startled as he shot the goat monster a finger gun.

“I _baaaaa_ -lieve in ‘ya, pal.” 

He was already halfway down the corridor by the time he heard the fluff-ball monster let loose a tremendous groan, a vaguely threatening sort of rumble that may or may not have had him picking up his lackadaisical pace.

Just a little bit. 

Not that it really mattered - his destination was on the far side of the palace, yet his _goal_ ended up bumping straight into him halfway there, dropping an armful of scrolls and bottles in the process. 

And also falling straight onto him, but hey, no problem.

“O-oh!” Alphys yelped, claws frantically scrabbling for her glasses and seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was currently using a skeleton for a pillow. Sans didn’t bother trying to fix his situation, simply lay back and tried not to fall asleep as the lizard monster finally set herself to rights. “I’m s-so sorry, I didn’t m-mean to - ”

“hey, no worries pal,” he grunted, as a limb jabbed into his side rather painfully. “i know i’m an easy monster to _fall_ for.”

The lizard monster reeled backwards as if she’d been slapped, her glasses hanging at an awkward angle from where she’d haphazardly shoved them on. “S-Sans?!”

He grinned at Alphys from the floor. “sup.”

Alphys let out a strange noise that sounded sort of like a Froggit being stepped on, and went on to flail about wordlessly until Sans finally took pity on her, using his magic to float himself up and back onto his feet. “heh,” he chuckled, offering a hand towards the monster still settled on the floor. “do i look that bad? personally i think i’m a pretty _hand_ some skeleton, myself.”

There was another wordless squeak of incomprehension from the monster, but his hand seemed to finally shake her out of her frozen stupor as she used it to pull herself upwards, a wide smile on her face. “Sans!” she repeated, and well, it was gratifying to see the look of surprised pleasure on her face. “I d-didn’t know you w-were back!”

“yeah, well,” he said vaguely, shrugging his shoulders. “i’ve been in and out. got a new assignment i’m working on for asgore.”

“W-well, I’m g-glad to see you a-again, anyways,” Alphys said bashfully, wringing her claws in front of her. There was a faint flush on her cheeks as the shorter monster looked up at him. 

...Huh. She seemed...exactly like he remembered her. Nothing seemed different about her at all.

...

Sans pushed the thought into the back of his head as he grinned, before he twirled his left fingers, his Summoning magic picking up the discarded scrolls and bottles - mostly empty ones - to deposit them into both of their arms. “T-thanks,” the lizard monster said gratefully, “I only m-meant to g-grab these scrolls, but I w-was low on b-bottles for my n-new potions and - ”

“aaaand, you didn’t wanna bother the servants so you grabbed ‘em yourself,” he finished for her, grinning wider as the lizard monster’s blush grew in volume, spreading down her snout. “you know that’s what the servants are _there_ for, al.”

“I just d-don’t want to b-bother them,” Alphys said defensively, because _of course_ she was worried that she’d be bothering them. She was only the Head Recondite of the Royal Palace, Monstrom forbid she ever ask for a little assistance. 

He didn’t say a word, though the other monster seemed to know exactly what was going through his mind as she shifted and ducked her head. “S-so uhm...oh! A-are you on your w-way to see P-Papy?”

“actually,” he said, abruptly beginning to walk towards the far end of the palace as Alphys startled and ran to catch up. “i was looking for you, buddy.”

“M-me?” she squawked, and he nodded. 

“you got it. got a little puzzle that i’m hoping you can _magically_ solve for me, pfft.”

His words did nothing to instill any sort of understanding in Alphys - which, c’mon. A magic puzzle? He couldn’t have been any clearer - but she seemed pleased to follow him anyways as he lead the way to her workshop, his feet remembering the path as clearly as if he’d walked there yesterday, instead of six years ago.

Six years ago, when he had broken into the quarantined research workshop that had once belonged to Gaster. 

Of course, the path deviated at the end. Instead of taking a left towards the now bricked over area, Alphys took the lead to bring them towards the right, heading into the brightly lit and...very messy rooms of the Royal Arcane Research Division. 

Alphys set her spoils down on a workbench with a grunt and a huff, while Sans deposited his nearby, taking the time to look around the area. Various runes were inscribed into the walls of the rooms, each one useful in powering up the differing machines and testing spaces that the Recondites worked with. Alphys’ station was plainly seen on the largest table, various mixtures and potions cluttering the space alongside a contraption of tubes and connectors. Even from a distance, Sans could see the crystals embedded at different points along the tubing. 

And that was just the downstairs. The upper floors were practically filled to the brim with books and scrolls of all sorts, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice for reference or direction. 

The sight of all of it made him grin, somewhat nostalgically. He’d left his father’s research workshop without a second glance over seventy years ago, and hadn’t gone back, even to see the remains of the workshop after Gaster’s death. The only time he’d set foot back in that place after he’d left it had been six years ago. 

But Alphys’ workshop, such a contrast to the former Head Recondite’s work space, always brought back that ping of nostalgia in Sans. Sometimes, he missed puzzling out the arcane and unknown magical mysteries of the world, working with others to figure out a better solution for the good of Monstrom. He missed the research and the magic, the experimenting and the triumphs. He even missed the failures, because they had only spurred them on to try harder, search further. 

_Can you hear them, Sans? What do you hear? Laughter? Crying?_

_Or..._

...Heh heh. 

But that life was far behind him, now. And Alphys had never begrudged him for leaving her behind; had fully understood, and had even been considering leaving herself. 

...It was kind of funny, how she had sometimes quietly commiserated with him when they’d both been working in Gaster’s workshop. Complained about being delegated to the grunt work while the other Recondites did the actual research. And yet, her grunt work of picking plants from the outside gardens had been the only reason she hadn’t been in the workshop when it had imploded fourteen years ago, killing Gaster and all the other Recondites.

“S-Sans?”

“hmm?” he said automatically, instinctively covering up the reminiscing he’d been caught up in. He shot Alphys his most innocent smile, and she tentatively smiled back at him, the barest flush creeping on her face. 

Pfft. Cute. 

There’d been a time, back in those days, when he’d been fairly certain of Alphys’ crush on him...of course, that had been before he’d found out that she basically crushed on _every_ single monster to pass her by. Looked like she still hadn’t grown out of that habit. 

Though even if he _had_ been interested in return, he would have never pursued it. Because of -

“You w-want me to l-look at s-something?”

“oh. yeah,” he said, pulling the necklace out of his pocket and tossing it at her. The lizard monster fumbled with it for a moment before she was able to grasp it in one claw, adjusting her glasses as she did so. “that.”

“A n-necklace?” Alphys questioned, more to reaffirm it for herself than actually asking. Sans nodded anyways as he stalked forward, leaning over the monster’s shoulder as she studied it. “Is there s-something about this n-necklace that I’m s-suppose to...o-oh?...”

Sans grinned, and waited. 

“Is that a r-rune?” she yelped, holding the necklace so close to her face that the crystal was in danger of disappearing up her snout. 

“yup.” Sans stepped away from the other monster, lazily returning his attention to the various contraptions and spell books strewn about the workshop. “i need to know what kind of magic’s inscribed in there, before this whole mess _runes_ away from me.”

Alphys hummed thoughtfully under her breath, mind already working overtime. He knew why she was so interested - same reason _he_ had been so taken aback by the necklace. Rune inscription wasn’t so difficult on general things, like walls or buildings, or machines. Runes could power up smaller items too, by way of transference - a rune on a watermill to increase its speed, for example. 

But the smaller an item got, the harder it was to both contain the magic to its physical space, _and_ get it working correctly in that space and _only_ that space. There was a reason why Communing Crystals were so expensive, after all. 

That said, there was no telling whether the disguised humans had gotten the necklace legitimately or not. Considering his suspicions on the human female in their company, he had a feeling they might have stolen the necklace too. But on the off chance that they _hadn’t_ , well...that meant that those humans had had access to some pretty powerful magic, or connections to pretty powerful magic. 

...That, or entire _wagons_ filled with gold to afford a trinket like that. Considering that they seemed to have been in the business of kidnapping noblewomen, he wondered if that was such a far stretch of the imagination. 

Still, figuring out exactly what magic was inscribed into the necklace would hopefully unlock more clues about them. Which may or may not be useful in discerning information about the attackers, but, well.

He was willing to look down every alley, right now. 

“W-wow,” Alphys was murmuring to herself, having seemingly forgotten that he was even in the room. “I’d h-heard about some h-humans having enchanted j-jewelry to wear f-for extra p-p-protection, but I n-never thought I’d s-see something _this_ s-small.” The lizard monster’s eyes were distinctly shiny looking. “It’s so b-beautiful too, like it w-was made to look g-good _and_ provide s-some - ”

Sans coughed pointedly, and Alphys, predictably, jumped. 

“so?” he questioned, as the lizard monster composed herself. “can ‘ya tell me what it’s for?”

“It’s d-difficult to say,” Alphys said apologetically, because of _course_ it was. “I d-don’t recognize t-the symbol...it was p-probably c-created by a R-Runemaker.”

Welp, _that_ made it about a hundred times more difficult. A Runemaker or Runemaster essentially created new and unique runes from the existing ones - ones like _Power_ or _Energy_ or _Spirit_ \- meaning that the necklace could have any sort of properties or effects that were custom tailored to the Runemaker’s wishes. 

“think you can push it up to the top of your list, al? the sooner i find out what it’s for, the better.” Of course, she didn’t really have a choice where the Arbiter was concerned...but Sans didn’t like throwing out his authority as Arbiter with his friends. 

Luckily he didn’t need to as Alphys nodded, still intently studying the necklace. “Of c-course Sans,” she affirmed, “we’ll s-start working on it r-right away!”

“heh. thanks buddy,” he said, reaching out to clap her on the shoulder briefly. He was rewarded with a wide smile, full of such eagerness to please that he felt a distinct thrill of guilt race down his spine.

His first time seeing her in over three years, and he hadn’t even _asked_ her about...

“so uh,” he started, shoving his hands awkwardly into his pockets. “how ‘ya been, otherwise?”

Alphys glanced at him briefly, blinking in surprise.

“i mean, c’mon pal,” Sans tried, winking at the lizard monster, “it’s been a while since i’ve been here. any _scaly_ situations you’ve been dealing with? heh.”

The other monster’s cheeks puffed out in slight agitation, the way she got when a completely green-eared Recondite tried to assert their knowledge over hers because they had studied in Northern Sovredes and she hadn’t. “N-not really,” she said, slipping off her chair to carefully lay the necklace on the workbench. “I’ve just been r-really busy, is a-all.”

“right, right,” he muttered, ducking his head down. Damnit...he _really_ wasn’t cut out for this comforting stuff. She seemed fine, but looks could be deceiving. “how’ve you...i mean, how’re you holding up, then?”

Oops. There went the subtle. Alphys blinked, very rapidly, having clued in to what he was hedging at, and Sans struggled not to flush at the blank look on her face. 

But - to his immense surprise - the lizard monster only smiled. A sad smile, but a smile all the same. 

“I’m o-okay Sans, really,” Alphys said softly, with none of the shadowed or ominous brittleness that had once been in her voice three years ago. She was being sincere, and that, more than anything, disturbed him. “N-now I r-really should start w-working on this necklace.”

“o-oh. right.” Sans resisted the urge to hunch his shoulders in, feeling like he’d just missed something important as he turned to leave the workshop -

“S-she’s out back i-if you want to say h-hello.”

The words were said so simply - so _casually_ \- that Sans had to stop and stare over his shoulder at the lizard monster, who had reportedly spent over a month locked in her rooms when she’d first gotten the news. But there was nothing staged or defensive about Alphys’ posture; she was simply bent over the necklace, a considering frown on her face. 

“...sure,” he ended up saying. He got an absent wave in return, Alphys already invested in her role as Head Recondite. 

But as he turned to leave, the sight of a flower resting on Alphys’ workbench had him pausing. Not a golden flower, the ones that littered almost every green surface inside the palace, and all along its outside as well.

But a pink flower, resting peacefully in a small vase. 

It’d been over three years ago, huh? The last time he’d been at the palace. Supposed he really _should_ go say hi, after all.

 

* * *

 

Sans knew, just from what he’d gathered and listened and learned over the years, that most nobles and royals had mausoleums for their dead. Contained spaces to put to rest their loved ones, important ones, to keep their remains from being desecrated. 

Not the royal family of New Home, though. Once again, it had been Asgore who had broken tradition to begin burying the dead outside of the mausoleum. Something about wanting the dead to have sunshine and flowers in the next life. He’d been met with some resistance, some whispers among Monstrom, true...but in the end, no one had complained enough to warrant change. 

Maybe Asgore had simply wanted to be able to visit his friends, his family, and his ancestors in the beauty of sunshine and open air, to bring some measure of comfort to the loss of loved ones. 

As such, Sans wasn’t entirely surprised to find other monsters milling around the burial grounds of the Royal Palace. Secluded and walled on all sides, every mound of dirt was covered to the brim with golden flowers, marking the passing of the greatest contributors to Monstrom, royal or no. If one could overlook the dead bodies underneath the ground they walked over, it could almost been seen as a rather beautiful place. 

He _was_ , however, surprised to find that he recognized the monster standing in front of his grave marker of choice.

“AND SO I TAUGHT HIM HOW TO PROPERLY EXPRESS HIS LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP, TO BE AS COOL AS ME! HE SAID HE WAS VERY SORRY FOR HIS ACTIONS, NYEH HEH HEH...AND _THEN_ HE TRIED TO STAB ME, SO I HAD TO TEACH HIM EVEN _MORE_ LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP! WITH MY BOOT TO HIS FACE!”

Sans hovered beside the gravestone to his left, watching as Papyrus conversed with the mound of dirt. There was nothing inside of that particular mound - the _Devoted Attrition_ had gone down over Lake Ghlren, they had never recovered the body - but Sans knew that didn’t matter to his brother. 

“AND AFTERWARDS HE WAS SORRY - FOR REAL THIS TIME! SO WE PRACTICED OUR WAR CRIES TOGETHER, UNTIL HE MOSTLY STARTED CRYING. SO I GAVE HIM A PUZZLE AND SENT HIM TO THE JAILS!” Papyrus preened as he undoubtedly recalled whatever love and friendship lesson he had administered on the criminal. “I PROMISED TO RETURN IN TWO DAYS TIME TO HELP HIM SOLVE THE PUZZLE, FOR IMMENSE AMOUNTS OF FUN!”

“wow, bro. sounds like you had _fun_ too many adventures today.”

“OH NO SANS, THIS OCCURRED LAST - _NYEH!”_

“sup paps,” he said, ignored his brother’s silent screaming as he settled himself into the dirt in front of the mound, hands held loosely in his pockets. “miss me?”

“SANS,” Papyrus said exasperatedly, covering his face with one hand. “THIS IS A SOLEMN PLACE, NOT A PLACE FOR YOUR INCESSANT PUNNING!”

“a solemn place?” Sans quoted, glancing around with an air of extreme surprise. “sorry, paps. i was looking for the burial grounds. you seen ‘em?”

Heh heh...that look on his brother’s face, the one that said he was doing his best to not scream out loud and was probably about to fail at any second...it never failed to make him chuckle. 

 _“ANYWAYS,”_ his younger brother said aggressively, turning back towards the mound of dirt. “I WAS JUST RELAYING THE FRIENDSHIP LESSONS I IMPARTED ON A LESS COOL FRIEND THAN I, SO THAT THE NEXT TIME WE MEET, HE WILL BE READY TO CHALLENGE ME.” Papyrus’ irritation faded as pride overcame his features. “HER LESSONS OF ULTIMATE COOL WILL FOREVER BE SHARED ACROSS MONSTROM AND BEYOND!”

Sans chuckled again, pushing off his hood to better feel the sun against his skull. “i’m sure she appreciates it, bro.”

Despite his bravado and unending confidence in himself, Papyrus faltered, staring down at him with a hopeful look that sought reassurances. “REALLY? I’D HATE TO THINK I AM FAILING AT SPREADING HER GOODWILL OF FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE...THROUGH FIGHTING!”

“no way, paps,” he instantly denied, “you’re the coolest friend ever.” Sans grinned and pat the ground next to him. “i’m sure she’s real proud of ‘ya, bro.”

Papyrus blinked, hesitance clearing away with a satisfied “NYEH!” as he plopped down into the grass beside him, and for a moment, the two of them just stared at the grave marker standing atop the mound of dirt. 

_Undyne_

_684:1 AT - 847:1 AT_

_Devoted Fleetmaster, Beloved Daughter, Coolest Friend_

Sans glanced over towards Papyrus, sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees. How he managed to scrunch his knees up like that with his armor, he had no idea. Just another notch in the unavoidable _cool_ that was his baby brother. 

“so,” he started, causing Papyrus to blink and look over towards him. “al seems to be handling herself pretty well.”

He’d meant to say it casually, but perhaps he’d been a bit _too_ casual. Papyrus’ eyebrows furrowed in a moment of anxiety. “YES, SHE’S GOTTEN MUCH BETTER,” his younger brother said slowly, though somewhat confusedly, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying the words he’d just spoken.

Clearly, Papy remembered those months following the burial rites that had been in held in honor of Fleetmaster Undyne. He’d only been around for a few days afterwards, but Papyrus had had an up close and personal witness to what Sans had heard to be a complete breakdown from the lizard monster. Honestly, Sans hadn’t been sure what he’d been expecting Alphys to be like, more than three years after Undyne’s death, but...

She hadn’t even reacted. At _all._

“...almost _too_ well, _tibia_ honest,” he continued after a moment, because the surreality of the moment hadn’t quite left him yet. 

Predictably, his brother’s face scrunched up with thinly veiled amusement at the pun, but the conversation seemed to forestall any blowup from the other skeleton. “I AGREE, SANS,” Papy admitted, knocking the knuckles of his gauntlets together. “IT PAINS ME TO SAY IT...BECAUSE I AM VERY GLAD THAT SHE NO LONGER STAYS INSIDE HER ROOMS ALL DAY! BUT... _WELL...”_

“like she’s in denial?” he hazarded, thinking back to the callous way Alphys had dismissed his expression of concern for her. 

Papyrus shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “NO, SHE...SHE DOESN’T _IGNORE_ THE FACT THAT UNDYNE IS...YOU KNOW. BUT SHE DOESN’T...” His younger brother paused for a moment, frustration creeping into his voice. “SHE DOESN’T SEEM TO _CARE,_ EITHER.”

Sans let out a breath of air, because that’s exactly the weird feeling he’d gotten from Alphys. She hadn’t denied Undyne’s death - had even directed him where to go to talk to Undyne’s grave - and it was that casualness that stumped him. 

“AND SHE HASN’T VISITED HERE AT ALL, NOT SINCE THE BURIAL RITES,” his brother continued. “I JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND...”

Neither did he. 

“...welp,” he said, reaching out to pat Papyrus’ arm. “don’t sweat it too much, paps.” At his brother’s incredulous look, Sans held up his hands to forestall the lecture. “people deal with their grief in their own way. maybe acting like undyne’s taking a quick nap is...just something that al needs to do, for a little while longer.”

Papyrus frowned, but nodded anyways. Sans could tell that his brother really didn’t understand that logic - Papyrus always wore his heart on his armor, sought out companionship and love without any restraints. The thought that someone would rather fool themselves than get help from friends or loved ones boggled his brother’s mind. 

Just one of the many things that made his brother so cool.

“and hey,” Sans continued after a moment, just to get that look off of his brother’s face. “i mean it, bro. you try to force someone else to be happy, you’ll just wear yourself...”

“NO,” Papyrus denied, solemn look completely eradicated and replaced by his signature bug-eyed expression of internal screaming as the skeleton slapped his hands over his ears. “NO! YOU WILL NOT RUIN THIS SOMBER MOMENT WITH YOUR TERRIBLE PUNS, SANS!”

Defeated, Sans returned his hands into his pockets and shrugged, grinning at his baby brother. 

Said brother harrumphed, slowly lowering his hands to cross his arms over his breastplate. “IF ONLY YOU HAD SPENT MORE TIME AS A CHILD SOLVING PUZZLES, RATHER THAN - ”

“ - downtothe _bone_ \- ”

_“SANS WOULD YOU JUST - ”_

“Arbiter Sans?” 

The page looked distraught and upset - maybe with whatever news he’d come bearing, but more likely wondering if he needed to call for some help. Sans waved a dismissive hand, even as he struggled to breathe inside of his brother’s chokehold. “w-whaddya need, kid?” he managed to gasp out.

And it was the grim downturn of the page’s mouth that immediately had him alerted, and wondering what else the universe had conjured up to break down Monstrom one misfortune at a time.

“The human is awake.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter, whoo! 
> 
> Does the story seem to be moving slowly right now? There's a lot of world-building/lore that needs to be moved out of the way so that readers understand what kind of universe this is, and I don't want to just cram it down your throats at the very beginning, so it's going to stretch a bit. BUT I'm continuously moving the plot forward even as I expand on the universe and the world-building, so the plot is still moving.
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you guys thought of this chapter! Interested in the story so far? Again, if people are confused over timelines and events I might start up a Tumblr account so that I can clarify questions/post timelines...maybe even give a shot at drawing maps or character designs. I'm not a good artist, not by a long shot, but I can probably make basic references or something. xD
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, commenting, and leaving Kudos! You guys rock. <3


	3. Second Awakening

 

Her name was Frisk, and she was _useless._

He tried, honest he did, not to feel resentment towards the woman who was proving about as useful as wet parchment. After all, it wasn’t her fault that the attack had traumatized her so much that she’d apparently developed a case of _damn memory loss._

Because of _course_ she had.

...Well, okay, it wasn’t _complete_ memory loss, more like...very selective and very _weird_ memory loss. But it did nothing to help the fact that Frisk was _completely and utterly useless._

Still, he tried not to let his frustration show anyways, but he must have not done a very good job at it. Neither had the others. The human female kept looking (at least he thought she was looking, she had this strange, closed-eyed stare) between him and Asgore and the two healers and one Recondite that were assembled, and her bottom lip kept curling inwards like she wanted to chew on it. Maybe a nervous habit.

Of all of them however, her gaze settled the most on Asgore, who - despite his disappointment - had a gentle expression to him that was characteristic of the big fluffball.

“I am sorry you had to go through all this, little one,” the King rumbled, setting a comforting paw on the human’s shoulder. Frisk stilled at the contact, before she seemed to almost melt into it, her head tilting slightly to brush her cheek against his paw. “It must have been very troubling for you.”

The human shook her head once, locks of brown hair swaying with the movement. She had an interesting hairstyle, at least from what he knew of human trends - long hair in the front, shorter in the back, with side-swept bangs on her forehead. A deliberate styling that seemed indicative of a noblewoman’s status, or at least someone that could afford to worry about things like pretty hairstyles.

“If you are feeling up to it,” Asgore continued, “would you please tell us everything again? Anything at all you can remember from the attack.”

Frisk’s face scrunched up. Not in defiance to the request, he thought, but maybe more at the memories that crowded around her skull.

But after a moment she nodded.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember more,” she said slowly, softly, and Sans watched as her hands clenched around the cup of golden flower tea Asgore had made for her. “I wish I did.”

“It’s alright, dear child,” Asgore reassured her, this time reaching out to pat her knee in comfort. He looked almost ridiculous sitting on the stool next to the bed, his larger frame barely fitting onto it. It was a very small stool meant to hold washing bowls or rags, and he looked like a giant sitting in a small child’s chair rather than the King of Monstrom sitting in the healer wards.

He was doing better than the rest of them at distilling Frisk’s hesitance, however, and the human girl briefly smiled at the King before recounting her story yet again.

“We were going to Northern Sovredes,” Frisk said, looking down at her tea. “They said...that we needed to take a path through the forests and not the road. I asked why, but...they never said.”

_They, they, they._

She continued on. “We’d just passed over the border into Monstrom - that’s what they told me - when we were...they just fell down from the trees.” The hands around the cup clenched again. “I don’t remember how we got to the building - someone grabbed me and just started running.”

Asgore nodded patiently as he himself shifted, standing against the wall with his arms resting lazily behind his head.

“I...I don’t remember much, after that,” Frisk admitted for the second time, albeit a bit guiltily. She wasn’t lying though - he could tell. No, she looked more guilty at the fact that she couldn’t remember, as if that was _her_ fault. “One of them pushed me into the building and told me to keep going, and I could hear the screaming and crying and - ”

She took another long pause, and no one thought to prompt her to finish as the human took in a deep breath. “And that’s all.”

Asgore shared a glance with him, one that Sans returned for a long moment. From the corner of his eyes he could see Frisk looking between them, having obviously figured out that they were the two highest authorities in the room.

“And the humans you were traveling with,” Asgore finally asked, carefully. “You say they did not...kidnap you?”

She’d been surprised the first time she’d been asked, as if the thought was so outrageous that she couldn’t even comprehend it. Now, Frisk only shook her head with a firmness that brokered no disagreement. “No, they didn’t kidnap me,” she reiterated. “They’re friends of my parents - they were helping me get to Northern Sovredes safely.”

“Hmmm,” Asgore rumbled, stroking at his beard with one hand.

“what were their names?”

Frisk started as he suddenly spoke up, the first time he’d done so during the entire questioning. Surprisingly however, she didn’t look to Asgore for guidance, only pondered the question.

“I...don’t know,” she ended up saying, making more than a few eyebrows raise upwards. Which, in turn, made the human’s own eyebrows come up. “I asked, but...they never told me. Said I didn’t need to know.”

“and your parents?”

“Mom and Dad,” Frisk affirmed.

He felt his grin take a decidedly strained turn. “their names, kid? what’s your house?”

“My house?...”

“family name? crest? lineage?”

Confused silence.

Sans struggled not to scream. Not only did Frisk have no noteworthy information to give them about her attackers, but she couldn’t even tell them where they could _return_ her to. Again with the selective memory loss. With anyone else he might have accused them of outright lying, but he was good at reading faces. Frisk was honestly confused and had no idea what they were talking about.

At least not right now.

“...Well, that is alright,” Asgore suddenly spoke up, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen onto the room. “Perhaps in time, these details will return to you.” The goat monster stood up from his stool with a light groan, stretching out his back slightly, before he smiled down at the human. “In the meantime, you are free to say in New Home for as long as you desire, Frisk.”

One of the corners of Frisk’s mouth quirked upwards in a grin. “Thank you.”

“Oh oh oh,” the King chuckled, patting the human once again - this time on the head. Sans frowned at the motion. “Think nothing of it, my child. Now, I must return to the task at hand.” Asgore paused on his way out the door, however. “If you would like some more golden flower tea, please, come see me in the throne room.”

She looked askance at that, as if being personally invited to a King’s throne room for something so mundane as tea boggled her mind. Then again, he supposed that the humans had a much more rigid idea of acceptable royal behavior.

...If she even _remembered_ what acceptable royal behavior was suppose to be like, anyways.

Asgore didn’t wait for a response though, simply let the invitation out into the open as he strode through the door and away from the healer wards. The milling healers and Recondite dithered for a while longer, before they too, dispersed.

Leaving just him in the human.

Frisk was looking over at him, probably waiting for him to leave as well. He ignored the way her eyebrows lifted upwards in surprise as he, instead, strolled forward, hands held casually in his pockets.

“heya,” he said, despite the fact that he’d been standing in the room for the past twenty minutes or so. “don’t think i ever introduced myself. i’m sans, sans the skeleton.” Sans deposited himself onto the stool and stuck out a hand. “sup?”

Her closed-eyed stare made it somewhat difficult to determine her quieter emotions, but he _thought_ he saw acceptance - and maybe a bit of relief? Was he _that_ scary looking? - on her features as Frisk grabbed his hand for a handshake. “I’m Frisk.”

He grinned and nodded, sticking his hands back into the pockets of his cloak. “so, buddy,” he said, “you really didn’t know those people you were traveling with?”

Frisk blinked (or briefly scrunched up her closed eyes in an approximation of a blink), clearly having expected the interrogation to be done with. But she complied all the same. “Really,” she affirmed, shifting slightly on the bed. “Mom and Dad said I needed to go with them to travel north...that they would keep me safe. So I went with them.”

If he went with his noblewoman theory, then maybe they’d been servants? Or, considering their combat skills, bodyguards. Not personal ones, but general family guards, low enough for them to essentially be nameless faces to her parents. Explained her lack of emotion towards them - general sadness over their deaths, but not the grief that came with personal loss. How could a human feel genuine grief for the deaths of what had basically been strangers?

A noble human family would also be the most likely explanation for the enchanted necklace, as well - loads of money could be just as powerful as the most intricate of magics.

“and you were traveling...why?” he questioned. Casually, nonchalantly, as if he really didn’t care.

Not that it mattered. “They didn’t say,” Frisk answered, which, well, he figured he might as well take that answer and stick it to just about anything he asked, because it seemed to be a recurring theme. “Mom and Dad said I’d find out when I got there.”

Her parents had entrusted their daughter’s life to a group of guards who’s names she hadn’t even known, without telling that same daughter where exactly it was that she was going?

What the _hell_ kind of parents were these?

Still, as fascinating and as frustrating a puzzle as Frisk was, he was starting to think that she was just the unfortunate victim of ill-fated circumstances. If her parents had insisted on her escort traveling armed and armored, chances were that they would have never been mistaken for simple travelers, and never been attacked. Frisk would probably be safely tucked away in Northern Sovredes by now.

...Then again, if they had never been attacked, he might not have ever found enough information about the attacks to conclude deliberate machinations against the integrity of Monstrom. No other targets had been able to fight off the attackers, after all, and leave all of their bodies as just enough clues.

Heh heh. It was a morbid thought, but one that was true nonetheless. One human’s loss had been Monstrom’s gain.

“welp,” he said abruptly, startling Frisk out of her introspection. “i’d make sure to take king fluffybuns up on his offer. you can’t find this stuff anywhere else on th’nuven.” Sans tilt his head down towards the golden flower floating in the human’s cup and winked. “you’d be missing a _golden_ opportunity, otherwise.”

Frisk snorted unwittingly, looking almost surprised at the sound that had come out of her own mouth, before she let loose a breathy giggle, grinning over at him.

...Heh.

Weird kid, who seemed to have gone through a more perilous journey that she’d probably ever anticipated...but hey.

At least she hadn’t lost her humor, along the way.

 

* * *

 

Papyrus may have called him lazy, but, to be perfectly honest?

He really felt the least stressful when he had nothing to do. Sounded pretty straightforward, yeah, but he knew a lot of monsters that got stressed when it came to the waiting game. They’d pace and wonder and wear themselves down, drive themselves crazy as they waited.

Him, though? He’d done everything he could at the moment, and it was up to the scribes to give him new leads to chase down. There was nothing more he could do right now - why bother working himself into a frenzy because of it? Might as well take the time to relax, kick his feet up, and take a well deserved rest.

Of course, even feeling the way he did, it was _still_ fun to mess with the scribes.

“I assure you we are searching for that symbol as fast as we can, Arbiter,” the scribe said archly, with a distinctly cross look on his face.“We are searching every account of the most recent historical uses of archaic letterings!”

Sans raised an eyebrow, and said absolutely nothing.

“...T-that is to say, we are working day and night to help our country,” the bunny monster corrected, adjusting his glasses in an attempt to remain pompous and righteously indignant. “We will send word to you as soon as we are able to locate uses of this symbol.”

He let the silence spiral for a good ten seconds longer, and the other monster had just begun to physically sweat before he suddenly chuckled.

“hey, lighten up pal,” he cajoled, winking at the startled monster and elbowing at his side a little. “i’m just messing with ‘ya! just lemme know as soon as you’ve got something - don’t keep me waiting _fur_ -ever,” he ended, reaching over to ruffle the rather spectacular puff of fur on top of the bunny’s head.

The immediate response was an affronted gasp, though Sans had teleported himself away before the scribe had a chance to suddenly forget who he was talking to again. Which, well...was probably for the best, anyways.

Just because he didn’t sweat what was out of his hands, didn’t mean that it didn’t rattle his _bones_ all the same _._

...Pfft.

The grin he’d had on his face faded as Sans walked down the corridors, hands held loosely in his pockets as the servants and pages gave him a wide berth. Also for the best, because he wasn’t really in the mood for small talk either.

It’d been three days since he’d returned to New Home, and the disappointment of a useless witness and the actual conclusion he’d made with his initial assignment had lingered on him as the days had passed. At times it seemed so natural, just an everyday assignment for the Arbiter.

And at other times, what he had actually discovered, what he and Asgore now thought, managed to catch him by surprise, sneaking up on him when he least expected it.

Someone, some group, was trying to _frame_ Monstrom. Trying to incite a war between human and monsters.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure it out. Who sought to gain from another war? The Golden Triad? Probably the most feared and hated group of humans throughout Monstrom, the Golden Triad was a three-fold band of humans that was rumored to operate in the human city of Thesda, and were notoriously against the existence of monsters. The group had its own record of known members and skirmishes in the library of the scribes - that was how much trouble they’d caused throughout the history of Monstrom.

Could it just be an attempt to motivate Sovredes to go to war with Monstrom?

Seemed like a pretty sophisticated and well thought out plan for what was suppose to just be an angry group of monster haters, to be perfectly honest. But, well...there really was no telling, at the moment. Not until the sword and its symbol were found.

Sans was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice her down the corridor to his left. But the slim frame caught on the corner of his eye and he turned without thinking, eyebrows raising at the unusual sight.

Because despite the relations between Monstrom and Sovredes, humans were an extremely uncommon sight in New Home - the same way monsters were almost never seen in Sovreign, the human capital city in Northern Sovredes. Not unless they were in New Home on official business, like an ambassador or a meeting of authorities. The royal and capital cities of their countries just weren’t the place for sight-seeing travelers.

And yet, that’s exactly what Frisk looked like as she studied the mural she was standing in front of, hands folded in front of her. The arched windows at her back streamed sunlight into the corridor, bathing everything into a golden sort of glow and making the plain white clothing on the human seem more expensive and luxurious than they actually were.

He hadn’t seen nor spoken to Frisk since he’d questioned her about the attack. To his knowledge, she had tried spending her time recovering (and waiting for more memories form the attack) by helping out in the healing wards. Apparently she had some skill in healing magic, which was a school of magic that wasn’t entirely common even among monsterkind.

Because most people, if they were going to spend years cultivating magical skill, tended to migrate towards schools they could s- _kill_ with, rather than one that solely supported others.

Asogre had given her free reign of the palace to explore at her leisure, however, something that the human had apparently taken to heart. Even as he watched, Frisk looked back and forth over the mural, and though it was too difficult to tell from a distance, he thought he saw her eyebrows furrow downward slightly.

Sans wasn’t sure how much of the Royal Palace she had explored yet, either. This section was almost in the centre of it, near the throne room. Maybe she’d already explored other areas and had gotten interested in the mural...or maybe she didn’t even have any interest in exploring very far. Either way, the mural had clearly caught her interest.

And her interest caught his.

He teleported a bit behind her, raising an eyebrow as she didn’t even flinch. Too enraptured with the mural, or simply not trained to hear the faint echo of his spirit walking? Either way, Frisk didn’t notice as he slowly walked up behind her, trailing his gaze from the woman herself to the mural she was looking up at.

...Huh. Supposed it was fitting she’d be drawn to this one.

“trying to figure out that old legend, kid?” he drawled, causing Frisk to leap almost a foot into the air and whirl around. She immediately ended up losing her balance and would have fallen straight onto the floor if he hadn’t grabbed her hand, abruptly halting her backwards descent. “cause i gotta tell ‘ya, you’re better off _winging_ it.”

Frisk let out a wordless noise of confusion and exclamation, still probably _reeling_ from his sudden appearance, heh. Sans grinned down at her, but obliged the human in pulling her upright again, back onto steady feet.

“Sorry,” she apologized breathlessly, “I didn’t even hear you behind me.”

He shrugged. “no worries pal,” he said dismissively, re-pocketing his hands as he walked up to stand next to Frisk, “i do that sometimes. my bro says i scare him right outta his _skin.”_

Frisk’s lips pursed together, and for a moment there was nothing but awkward silence.

“I’ll remember that, next time,” the human eventually answered, albeit slowly, as if she was thinking hard about something. Sans raised his eyebrows as she glanced at him, her expression giving nothing away. “So that I can escape by the...”

Wait...was she - ?

“ - _skin_ of my teeth.”

...

_Pfft._

“really kid?” he chortled, head tilted over one shoulder as he studied the human. She still had that sort of deadpanned look on her face, the one he was starting to think was just natural for her, but her mouth was tilted upwards slightly. “trust me, i’m completely harmless. and that’s the _tooth.”_

She couldn’t hold back a giggle this time, and for a moment he simply reveled in sharing a bad pun and some good laughs with a human pal, because - well.

Who didn’t love a bad pun and a good laugh? Aside from a certain skeleton, that was - a certain skeleton that was probably getting shivers down his _spine_ right now.

“so how’s new home been treating ‘ya?” Sans questioned, turned to face the human now. “hope it’s been pretty _homey_ for you.”

“Oh, yes,” Frisk said pleasantly, holding onto one elbow behind her back. “Asgore has been so kind - he’s fixed me golden flower tea every single day.” The human smiled briefly, perhaps recounting some particular event that had endeared the goat monster to her. “But he was worried I would be bored in the healing wing, so he said I should take a look around and...well. Look at things.”

Heh. Sounded just like the old fluff ball.

“see you’ve taken his advice to heart,” he commented, jabbing his chin towards the mural they were standing in front of. “picked out a favorite?”

Frisk blinked - did her weird, closed-eye blinking thing again, anyways - and turned to face the wall once more, head tilting at a contemplative angle. “It _did_ catch my eye,” she admitted, staring up at the mural. It was a large one, covering almost the entirety of the corridor. “But only because I was wondering - ”

Sans raised a curious eyebrow as Frisk suddenly broke off. Her neutral expression still looked the same, but he thought he saw a hint of hesitance in the lines of her mouth. “wondering?...” he prompted after a beat of silence had passed. 

Frisk glanced over at him, a wry twist to her lips that probably signified her knowledge that he had figured out her hesitance. “Well,” she stated slowly, as if she knew what she was about to say was ridiculous but didn’t know how else to phrase it. “I was just wondering...I mean...”

He didn’t rush her, only stared expectantly as Frisk looked back up at the mural.

“Are they...monsters?”

...

What.

Sans looked over towards the mural and its subjects too, just to double check that they were looking at the same one. Yup, still taking over the entire wall of the corridor, still the same mural. “nope,” he said slowly, because he really had no idea what else to say.

“So,” Frisk continued after a moment, “they’re humans, then?”

He was looking fully at her now, and whatever expression was on his face made her uncomfortable, or perhaps insecure, as Frisk rubbed at her elbow a bit. She didn’t back down from her questioning however, staring straight back at him for an answer.

One that was really easy to give, but at the same time not, because...because seriously.

What the _hell,_ Frisk. Was this kid even for _real?..._

“no,” he finally found it in himself to speak up. He hadn’t meant to let the silence spiral like that, but he was completely flummoxed at the genuine curiosity on the human’s face, one that spoke no lies and no tricks. “they’re not humans.”

“Oh,” Frisk mumbled, mouth pursing as she apparently struggled with this information. She was looking at him, still expectantly, waiting for further explanation.

“kid,” Sans finally said, and he knew for a fact that his grin had taken a decidedly incredulous tilt as he stared at the human girl. “you’ve never heard of angels before?”

The human perked up, returning her attention back towards the mural under scrutiny. “Angels?” she repeated, one hand reaching upwards to carefully run over the lovingly painted dedication to the old legend. “These are...angels?”

“capital a,” he corrected, because he could just _hear_ the lower case lettering in her voice. “angels.”

Frisk hummed lightly under her breath, taking one step closer to the mural. “So they’re not monster or human?” she hazarded, probably more for her own benefit than to actually ask the question. The confusion was evident on both her features and in her tone of voice. “I’ve never seen any... _Angels_ before.”

“...that’s ‘cause they’re not around anymore, kid,” Sans said, “if they ever _were_ around. they’re just a story.”

Oops. There was that look again, silently waiting for him to explain everything. His own confusion was still making him stare at the human as if she’d grown a second head, but at her continued stare, Sans took his own step forward, transferring his gaze onto the mural as well.

The seven figures painted onto the wall seemed to loom over the entire corridor, spread out to take its entire space. All of them were human in shape, with the exception of wings sprouting from each of their backs. Some had noticeably defined male or female bodies, yet they were all depicted with an agelessness that seemed to define sex.

If she really had never heard of Angels before (really? never even _heard_ of them?) then it was no wonder she’d been confused. Humans weren’t known for walking around with wings on their back, nor monsters with remarkably human features.

“you know there used to be history when time wasn’t counted,” he started, phrasing it like a statement rather than a question, and he had to stave off another bout of incredibility at the thought of Frisk answering in the negative. If this human didn’t even know how the _calendar_ worked then he was going to -

But Frisk nodded. Sans struggled not to feel too relieved as he continued on.

“back then, monsters and humans didn’t get along very well. whole big thing.” Sans paused, his grin widening a bit. “guess you could say they didn’t get enough of a _war_ -ning before things started getting bad, _pfft.”_

No response. Frisk was still looking politely at him, waiting him to finish.

“uh...’ya know. _war_ -ning? the millennium war?”

 _That_ got a response. “Monsters and humans fought for a thousand years?” she questioned, with those furrowed eyebrows that probably meant she was thinking hard about it. Like this was also a first time lesson for her.

At least in the case of the Millennium War, it was a _bit_ more understandable. Just a little bit. People still talked about Angels today, even if no one really believed the old legend, and Angel statues, paintings, and murals could be found all over the place. But no one really liked to talk about the Millennium War unless they were a scholar, or someone who hunted ancient treasures.

No one really liked to remember that monsters and humans had once fought each other to the brink of destruction.

“eh - who knows,” he said helpfully. “there was definitely some fighting going on, but was it _really_ a thousand year war, or is that just an exaggeration. no way to know for sure.” Sans shrugged one shoulder upwards. “you gotta remember kid, this was before people started taking records of events - before we began to count time. what little we know, we know from paintings, old ruins, couple of artifacts...and some pretty good guesswork to help _paint_ us a picture of that time, heh.”

“So,” Frisk said slowly, “when _did_ we start recording history, exactly?”

“first official records are from the high autocracy in sovredes,” Sans answered, walking forward to rest his back against the mural. “somewhere in the fifth century after time. paper got invented around that point,” he went on to say, hitting the question he could already see forming on the human’s lips. “we count the angels as the start of time, but there was still a lot of bad blood between monsters and humans afterwards, kid. a lot of history didn’t survive the _consequences_ of that war - same way they didn’t survive the war itself.”

“Even though it just a legend, humans and monsters used the Angels to mark the start of recorded history?”

Sans chuckled. “yup. hilarious, right?”

He was looking up at the mural rather than at the human woman, but he could almost _hear_ the frown on Frisk’s features. “What _are_ Angels? If they’re not human or monster?”

Sans shrugged. “they’re just angels, frisk. different race from both humans and monsters. they had no births and they never die, and their magic is so powerful it moves mountains and creates oceans.” He grinned at the human, waggling a finger gun at her. “so you can _sea_ why they’re just a legend.”

Frisk grinned a bit at the pun, though he could tell from the set of her mouth that she wasn’t anywhere close to being done with the questions yet. Heh. Supposed he couldn’t blame her, considering this was - apparently - the very first time she was hearing about the Angel legend.

“So...what did they do?” she continued, right on schedule. “Why were these Angels so important that an entire legend was made from them?”

Heh...got a bit more complicated, there.

“well,” he started slowly, shifting around a bit to find a more comfortable spot against the wall, “legend says that these angels appeared on th’nevun to help stop the war. and this gal here, in particular - ” Sans rapped his knuckles on the mural behind him, “ - she helped by giving humans the ability to use magic. just a tiny bit. s’why humans have to train magic early, otherwise it just sorta bleeds outta them.”

He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Frisk was studying the specific Angel he had pointed out - the one that stood at the center of the other six Angels, and was painted larger than all the others. She had discernibly female traits, though again, the mysterious agelessness of her features negated them somewhat.

“the angel of life,” he iterated, tilting his head back to look up at the mural for himself. The Angel looked past him, eyes fixed on the distant horizon. “that’s what the humans call her. her gift put the humans on even footing with monsters.”

“Angel of Life,” Frisk murmured, eyes roaming the Angel’s disquieting features, and yup. _There_ was the confusion again. “But she looks...”

“a little mean?” he guessed, and chuckled as Frisk shot him a startled glance. “a little...evil? heh. that’s because she’s _evil-_ lain to monsters.”

His pun did nothing to shed light on her confusion. “when humans got magic, monsters saw their end. we lost our advantage over the humans.” Sans shrugged his shoulders, hands held comfortably in his pockets. “the humans may see her as the angel of life, but us monsters? heh heh. to us, kid...she’s the angel of _death.”_

“They thought humans getting magic meant their deaths? But monsters didn’t end,” Frisk protested, “you’re all still here.”

Sans cracked open one eye, studying the human. “hey, don’t look at me, pal,” he advised, “that’s just how it is. humans see the bringer of life and light. monsters see the harbinger of destruction.”

Frisk frowned thoughtfully up at the mural. He couldn’t tell if she was intrigued by the entire legend, or still just plain confused. “So an Angel of Life - or Death - gave humans magic and ended a thousand years of fighting...which is the moment we started recording history? Zero AT?”

“that’s what the legend says,” he concurred - though he paused to study the human. “but you won’t ever hear me, or any sane person, say the same thing,” he felt the need to clarify, in case she started going around telling monsters that the Arbiter still believed in the old Angel legend. “it’s just a myth, kid. that time’s still covered in guesswork, but it’s more likely that the angels were just some human ambassadors that worked for peace between the two races, who were turned into legends to try and control the population.”

“Control them?”

“eh, used to be a whole organization dedicated to angels,” Sans said dismissively, remembering the old texts tucked away in the Library of Fhalsde. “almost religious like. there’s some pretty sound evidence that the humans started the legend to try and unite all humans under one ideal, and monsters ended up running with it too.”

He paused, raising an eyebrow. “monstrom’s always been monstrom as far as we know, but sovredes used to be a bunch of smaller provinces scattered around th’nevun,” he added, just in case the human didn’t know that particular historical tidbit either.

“Hmm,” Frisk hummed, and he was pretty sure she hadn’t know that particular historical tidbit, either.

Just like she hadn’t know a lot of things, up until now, and Sans didn’t bother hiding his blatant staring as Frisk continued to soak in the image.

So maybe it wasn’t really memory loss, because as far as most cases went, _her_ memory loss was far more... _selective,_ than what he understood true memory loss to be. Frisk was a walking flesh and bone construct of contradictions, and every new thing he learned about her only added to the confusion.

She could read but she couldn’t write. She had the looks of a noblewoman but the knowledge of a farming girl. She had spent years learning healing magic but apparently didn’t have a family house. She knew her mother and father by face, but not by name. She knew how to mark the passing of years...but didn’t know the single most passed down legend of Th’nevun history.

 _That_ was perhaps the most baffling mystery. Sure, not many still actually _believed_ in that old legend anymore - a monster or human was more than likely to get laughed at if they sincerely expressed belief in that ancient mythos - but everyone still... _knew_ about it. If not all the details, then at least the _subjects_ of the legend. She might as well have asked what _monsters_ were.

...Heh. She really was a puzzle, wasn’t she. If he hadn’t known that she would eventually be leaving New Home, he might have been tempted to introduce her to Papyrus. Let his bro take a crack at _puzzling_ her out. Because Paps loved puzzles, and he loved making new friends.

Both of ‘em, together? His bro would have been making spaghetti for _days._

But he knew there was no way she was staying here - not for long, anyways. There _had_ to be someone out there looking for her, he just couldn’t bring himself to believe she was a nobody. She’d had too much work put into her...even _if_ that work was patchwork and spread across different facets of life. Like a painter who’d gotten halfway through a work of art, and had just splashed some paint onto the white spaces to finish it up.

Sooner of later, someone would come looking for her. And if Paps loved making new friends...then he hated _losing_ them even more.

“welp,” he spoke up languidly, pushing himself away from the mural. “consider that your history lesson slash storytime for today.” Sans winked at Frisk, slipping his hands into his pockets. “free of charge.”

Frisk’s mouth twitched as she tucked some hair behind her ear. “Thanks,” she said, eyeing him just as blatantly as he’d been staring at her before. “And thank you for - you were the one who rescued me, right?”

The sudden change in topic had him raising an eyebrow. “hmm?”

“I mean, after the attack,” she clarified. “You were the one that found me? I never thanked you for saving my life.” Frisk paused for a moment, before she looked back at him, staring him dead on. “Thank you, Sans. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

For a moment Sans consider saying something stupid like _just doing my job_ or _all in a day’s work._ Luckily he managed to refrain from saying anything so silly, and just waved a hand through the air.

“hey, don’t sweat it, kid,” he said, watching the seriousness on Frisk’s face clear up as he grinned at her. “seriously. it’s all...”

A blink, and raised eyebrows as he threw a finger gun in her direction.

“ - _ancient history.”_

There was a definite snort from Frisk, unwitting and uncalled for if the human’s expression was to go by. But it was there all the same.

“Well...”

He blinked, tilting his head.

“At least I’ll have an interesting tale to tell when I’m back home.” She paused and - Sans felt his grin stretch wide across his face - returned his finger gun. “All about Arbiter Sans and _his-tory.”_

...So bad.

 _“pfft._ nice one, kid.”

Frisk grinned at him, smiling wide with less restraint than she had ever shown, and the sight made his own grin widen yet again as she opened her mouth to -

“Arbiter Sans!”

Sans blinked, turning his head around. A Loox was running towards them, breathing in a way that meant he’d apparently been running for a while, and he skid to a halt just in front of the two of them.

“I was told,” the page huffed breathlessly, bent over his short legs as he struggled to regain his breath, “to find you, immediately.”

“heh, nice work,” he praised, winking down at the small monster. _“loox_ like you’ve found me. whaddya need, kiddo?”

His pun received nothing more than a wide-eyed stare from the Loox - which, c’mon. He got enough of that from his bro, thanks - as the page still worked to get his breathing back under control. “The scribes,” he panted, pointing down the hallway, “they told me to fetch you - they found what you’re looking for and - ”

The sword. The symbol.

_Finally._

“welp,” he said succinctly, glancing over his shoulder towards Frisk. Her face was back to its resting neutral expression, but he thought maybe the corner of her eyes were tilted upwards. “seems like _eye_ got someplace to be. see ‘ya, pal.”

Frisk nodded, and made a little waving motion with her hand as he stepped forward, grabbed onto one of the Loox’s arms, and teleported.

He made it to the library of the scribes in about five seconds, and had already dropped his hold of the Loox by the time the smaller monster even thought to start panicking at the sudden shift in spatial location. Sans left the page looking back and forth around himself as he strode forward, intent in every step.

The scribe he’d been speaking with earlier wasn’t in the immediate area, but as soon as he stepped through the double doors, a clam monster with black glasses straightened up at attention, balancing the scrolls and books in his stubbed arms.

“Arbiter Sans?” he questioned, though seemingly more to confirm what he already knew as he stalked forward, grinning down at the other monster. “You asked for all known records of a certain archaic symbol?”

“tell me you’ve got something, buddy.”

“Yeah dude!” Clam Guy walked forward a few steps to the nearby table, depositing all of his items onto the surface and spreading them about. Most of the scrolls were covered in that ancient, archaic monster alphabet that his rusty knowledge might have been able to decipher given enough time, but he was really hoping for an abridged version.

“It’s some old monster language,” the clam monster said, and Sans didn’t bother pointing out that he’d already known that. “Like, from BT probably. Before Time. First we thought it was human, ‘ya know, it’s right-side up and all - old monster language looks all upside down to us, but not to - ”

He bothered this time. “listen pal, i appreciate the history lesson,” he said, and grinned as the clam monster promptly... _clammed_ up, the two halves of his shell almost fully closing as embarrassment crossed his features. “but i’m not really interested in the past. i’m more interested in how it’s being used today.”

“Right,” Clam Guy said ruefully, peering down at one of the books. He scraped it towards himself with his stubbed arms, using the appendages to peel back the pages towards the center of the book. “Well, we think this is the most recent usage, as noted by...” A squinting of eyes behind the black spectacles, “Royal Guard Lesser Dog, in seven ninety-one colon one AT. Dude reported a scuffle in Raslen, some low-time bandits of sorts - this symbol and orientation was...du du du... _drawn_ onto the town’s center statue.”

A new bandit group using an old monster symbol as their own?

“No apparent cause for the disturbance,” the clam monster said slowly, and Sans leaned over the other side of the table, trying to read the passage out of the book for himself, “mmm...no demands were made. But Royal Guard Lesser Dog reported here that...one of the witnesses said the attackers claimed to be a part of an organized group.” Clam Guy finally glanced up towards him, glasses catching in the candlelight. “The Crippled Wings.”

It took him a moment to place the name. And once he did, Sans had to resist the urge to slap a palm to his forehead. 

The ancient monster symbol for  _accession,_ only drawn upside-down. Or right-side up, as it were. Human style.

_Human Accession._

It made sense in hindsight, though only in a way that was filled with incredibility. The Crippled Wings were - _used_ to be - a group of monster radicals who, for whatever reason, believed that Monstrom was better off under the rule of Sovredes, and had seen Humans as the ultimate pinnacle of life. Messy, sloppy, and disorganized, there’d still been a time when they’d apparently been an actual nuisance to Monstrom, though for the life of him Sans couldn’t remember exactly _when_ that was. The organization had been eradicated and dispersed by the time he’d reached adulthood, and had faded from memory.

And now they were back. A single skirmish in Raslen might have been explainable as a few fervent leftovers attempting to reorganize the group, marking their symbol in a bid to rally any estranged believers...

But if they were the ones behind the attacks along the Accordian Road?

They were organized now, and careful. They’d forgone their keepsake weapons and armor in order to disguise themselves, and they ambushed targets with eerie precision. A far cry from the group who had once gone charging straight through the gates of New Home and almost directly into the jail cells, if he recalled correctly.

But where had they gotten the money to buy all new weapons? To carefully disguise themselves? Maybe they hadn’t been dispersed as much as everyone had thought, had managed to scrabble together to keep the organization from completely crumbling, and had simply hid away until the time was apparently right.

... _That,_ or...

Something worse.

“There are no other known records of the usage of that symbol, my man,” Clam Guy spoke up, shrugging apologetically. “None that we can tell.”

He seemed kind of nervous - maybe expecting some form of retribution from the Arbiter over the spotty information - but Sans waved a dismissive hand through the air. “hey, don’t sweat it, pal,” he said, winking at the clam monster. “i can’t expect more than you can give. that’d be pretty _shellfish_ of me, pfft.”

Clam Guy’s eyes squinted behind his dark glasses, probably wondering if he needed to take offense to the pun or not. Sans made the decision for him. “thanks, bud. this is _just_ what i needed.”

And with that, he teleported away, towards the guest bedrooms that were his temporary home whenever he stayed in New Home. It was in its normal state of disarray, untouched by the servants after a not so subtle warning the first time one of them had tried to tidy it up, and he carelessly picked his way towards the desk, and the worn notebook resting on top of it.

Leather-bound, small enough to fit almost entirely in one hand, he flicked it open to a fresh page as he threw himself backwards onto the bed. His eyes never left the notebook as he dipped a quill into the nearby ink pot with his magic, and floated the item into his grasp to write down his next course of action.

Raslen. Find information on the Crippled Wings, and disperse them for _good_ this time.

And hopefully...hopefully, that would be the end of it. And he could go back to searching.

The thought had him stilling his fingers as he stared down at the freshly inked words. _10 summer’s end, 851:1 AT. symbol connected to crippled wings. starting investigation in raslen tomorrow._ Most of the entries were like that, short and to the point. A brief recount of his journey, and his next plan of attack.

The older entries, though...

_27 darkness still, 845:1 AT_

_i don’t know what i’m doing or why i’m writing this. guess its the recondite in me. ‘proper documentation,’ gaster always said. never know when the smallest detail will make the difference. i stopped listening to the old man a long time ago, but ~~i~~_ ~~_guess i still_~~ _habits never really die. so..._

_cseralia is gone. that’s all anyone’s talking about these days. they’re starting to call it the cseralian deadlands now. asgore hasn’t even bothered sending me out there to investigate - we all know it was the scourge. recondites are working overtime. honestly, don’t know what they’re hoping to find. centuries spent studying the scourge, and we’re nowhere near to understanding it. i can tell they’re frustrated. they’ll give up soon._

_don’t worry paps. i won’t give up. i’ll find a way to save you, for good. and i hope_ _that ~~you’ll understand why i had to~~_

~~_please forgive me_ ~~

_guess this is more like a journal than proper documentation, huh old man. it’s fine. not like you’re gonna read this. how’s the afterlife treating you? all your pals there with you?_

_hope they’re getting their fill of payback, you dirty spirit stealer._

Heh heh...proper documentation. Never know when the smallest detail will make the biggest difference.

_30 darkness still, 845:1 AT_

_sorry paps. you’ll never read this but i’m sorry. i know you didn’t want me to go, but i have to. i have to try. i’m sorry._

_...got myself some new traveling buddies though. the blasters, that were hanging around in gaster’s lab? the ones that came when i summoned. they’re mine now, apparently. i kinda had a hunch before, but i can feel them more clearly now._

_i’m bound to them. they’re my spirit summons. guess the old man got the last laugh after all._

_there’s a lot of them. not all together. i’ve counted over a hundred so far. not that surprised...gaster was always a hands on sort of recondite._

_anyways, i’m gonna start right at the beginning. at home. our old home. gaster said he took everything with him when he became the new head recondite, but who knows. maybe there’s something still left there._

_hang in there, papy._

He’d started this notebook in the fashion of a journal more than a scientific endeavor, and it was difficult to pin down the turning point, when he’d starting simply writing things down as realistic facts instead of pouring in all his feelings and regrets and hopes and dreams. When _i hope_ had started becoming _the way things are._ When the repeated failures and fruitless searches had begun to wear him down. There was no clear turning point, not in his memories, and the pages reflected that in their steady decline towards bluntness.

_16 rebirthing, 847:1 AT_

_engine malfunction. that’s the word on the street, but i still can’t believe it. undyne’s dead._

_going back to new home in two days. i said i wouldn’t go back unless i had an answer, but...i know paps is gonna need me. and alphys,_ ~~_i can’t imagine how_ ~~ _i won’t stay for long. just long enough._

_then back to searching. there has to be an answer out here._

_somewhere._

He was probably just about the only one who still really believed it. He had to believe it. If he stopped to think, even for a moment, that there was no possible way to cure the Scourge then -

Welp. He’d just about go crazy.

...Of course, he’d done more than most, hadn’t he. More than anyone else, except one other.

Gaster would be so proud.

_2 waning dusk, 848:1 AT_

_sixty-one’s old facility was a dead end. heading to sixty-three’s family house in the west to investigate there._

Just like all the others had been. Like all the others before, and after.

_21 spring’s end, 850:1 AT_

_i’m not giving up, paps. i swear. i’ll never stop trying._

Six years in the life of a Boss Monster might have been nothing, but the content of those years mattered. He’d explored all probable possibilities, the most likely sources for information and solutions, and had come up empty-handed. And then he had turned to nothing more than fanciful imagination and fretful hopes.

And still had nothing to show for it.

Six years, broken only by a quick return to pay his respects to Fleetmaster Undyne...and what had he accomplished?

How was Papyrus any better off?

And now, this assignment into the attacks had taken a far left turn into the unknown. He’d been expecting a quick casting of judgement on some petty bandits or misled zealots, not...this entire conspiracy theory.

...Welp.

Hopefully, it would end soon. Hopefully, the Crippled Wings would be the end of the road for these attacks, his assignment would be done, and he would go back to searching. With absolutely no leads and no possibilities, he would simply go to the Library of Fhalsde in Sovreign. Scour through all tens of hundreds of thousands of books there for even the slightest hint of an answer, if he had to.

If that’s what it took. How could he not?

Sans closed the notebook, but couldn’t find the energy to slip it back inside his robes. Instead, he simply let it lay on his chest as his head fell backwards onto the pillow, staring up at the gleaming marbled ceiling. Tomorrow, he’d set out for Raslen, dispose of the Crippled Wings, and send word to Asgore while riding north towards Sovreign. He’d find an answer.

Lazybones of a skeleton he may have been, but he kept the promises that he made. He had to try.

Because it was for Papyrus. And if it was for his brother, then...

How could he not try?

 

* * *

 

“Good luck, Sans,” Asgore intoned solemnly as they walked down the steps that lead out into the courtyard. The gleaming gates that prevented entryway into the Royal Palace stood just beyond them. “Monstrom is counting on your efforts.”

“i gotcha, pal,” he grinned, and elbowed the goat monster to ward off the worried frown on the King’s face. He saw some of the trailing pages glancing askance at each other at the casual treatment of their King, but the monster in question only flashed sad goat eyes down at him in return.

“And you be safe as well.” Asgore stopped him with a hand on one shoulder, halting them on the bottom steps. “Do not endanger yourself.”

Heh heh. Like he’d _ever_ done that before. “kinda a double edged sword there, buddy,” he pointed out, and Asgore acknowledged the statement with a wry grin.

“Oh ho ho, so it is,” the goat monster said agreeably. But the warmth in the other monster’s eyes kept him arrested on the bottom steps as the hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly. “But it stands, all the same.”

Noted.

A whinny rang through the courtyard, and Asgore nodded and released his grip, continuing forward. Sans followed right behind him, eyes traveling over to the gates where he could see his Slyven already saddled and ladened down with supplies -

...Standing right next to a _second_ Slyven that was similarly burdened, and his eyes trailed from the creatures themselves to the monster that was holding onto their reins.

“And,” Asgore continued with sudden joviality, as Sans felt his Soul leap into his throat, “considering the desired haste of this task...I have seen fit to bequeath you one of my Paladins, to help on your journey.”

Oh, come... _on..._

“paps, no,” he said, big brother authority in his voice as he spoke up before Papyrus could get a word in edgewise. That never stopped his brother before, but it was worth a _shot._ “you can’t go wandering around in the wilds, you’re gonna stress yourself out.”

“I, THE GREAT PALADIN PAPYRUS, AM PERFECTLY HEALTHY AND WHOLE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH,” Papyrus said just as quickly, with one hand held against his breastplate. “AND AM READY TO AID THE ARBITER IN MATTERS MOST LACKING IN FRIENDSHIP AGAINST MONSTROM! TOGETHER WE SHALL TEACH THESE SCOUNDRELS WHAT IT MEANS TO BE GOOD FRIENDS...USING SWORDS!”

“you’re a paladin, bro,” he reasoned, even as he struggled not to groan at the familiar stubborn look on the other skeleton’s face. “you’re suppose to be here, guarding asgore. remember?”

“BUT THE KING HAS REQUESTED A PALADIN TO ACCOMPANY YOU, YOU NUMBSKULL!” Papyrus shot back. “AND BEING THE VERY COOL PALADIN FRIEND THAT I AM, I HAVE ANSWERED THE CALL!” A suddenly severe look, one that almost had him flinching back. “AND SINCE YOU’RE _NEVER HOME_ ANYMORE - ”

“i was just here last week!” he protested.

“FOR A _DAY,”_ his brother said, which - okay, that was true, “AND _ONLY_ BECAUSE YOU GOT A SUPER SECRET IMPORTANT MISSION.” That...was also true, he hadn’t been planning to come back to New Home anytime soon. “AND IF YOU INSIST ON STAYING OUT _THERE,_ THEN...THEN I SHALL SIMPLY HAVE TO JOIN YOU, BROTHER!”

Piece said, Papyrus crossed his arms in defiance, and subsequently had to fend off two irate Slyvens as they nipped at his skull for pulling on their reins. Sans used the time to try and talk some sense into Asgore.

“he’s _sick,_ asgore,” he hissed under his breath, feeling his grin tighten at the look the King shot down at him. “he needs to stay calm and quiet, he doesn’t need to be - ”

“I wonder,” Asgore interrupted mildly, “if you have ever considered asking him what _he_ wants?”

“what he _wants_ and what he _needs_ are different, you know that.” He didn’t quite _snap_ it, but it was a near thing, because if Asgore sincerely thought he’d never taken his brother’s feelings into consideration... “what’s he gonna do if he breaks down in the middle of an attack? some guy rushes him with a sword and he just falls over? and between fighting to save _him_ and fighting to save monstrom...buddy.”

Asgore raised an eyebrow.

“it’s gonna be him. every time.”

“Hmm,” the goat monster said thoughtfully, and for a moment they both ignored the distressed cries of Papyrus, and what sounded like Slyven teeth chewing on skeleton bones.

It was treasonous to say, basically announcing his allegiance to his brother’s welfare over the good of all of Monstrom. And even with Asgore being the giant stuffed plush toy that he was, Sans felt a knot of tension coiling in his gut as the moment stretched out.

“Then you will do what you must.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t the kindly eyes that smiled down at him. “And so will he, Sans.”

There was a warning note in the King’s voice, but not, seemingly, aimed at his treacherous statement. Was Asgore saying that Papyrus would have...followed him, anyways? Could Papyrus really miss him enough to risk both his health and his status as a Paladin by deserting his post at the Royal Palace?

...He should have never come back.

“i,” he said, and immediately floundered. He wished Asgore would look elsewhere, but the goat monster kept his gaze fixed firmly on him, committing him to his secrets. “i don’t want him to see.”

 _That,_ at least, seemed to get through to the goat monster, and the King’s eyes took on a pitying look. “Then do not show him,” Asgore advised, and he resisted the urge to scowl, “but you cannot control him. Treasure your family, Sans.”

_I WOULD RATHER SPEND THE LAST OF MY DAYS_

“He misses you.”

 _WITH_ _YOU THAN_ WITHOUT _YOU, BROTHER!_

It was a lost battle. He’d known it from the moment he’d seen the determined tilt of Papyrus’ chin.

...Supposed it was better than having Papyrus sneak along behind him and suffer a fit in the middle of the road, miles away from help. Better to keep him close by, if he wasn’t going to stay in the safety of New Home.

“...heh heh. alright, asgore,” he finally conceded, grinning as he held his palms forward in the universal act of surrender. “i get it.”

Asgore let out a pleased hum as they both turned back towards Papyrus. As he’d suspected, one of the Slyvens had Papyrus‘ skull between its teeth, munching on the skeleton’s noggin as punishment for the mishandling of its reins. The other Slyven seemed to have lost interest, and had turned to nosing around Papyrus‘ armor, maybe looking for something to eat.

...There was probably some omen to be found in that image, one that he really didn’t want to dwell to much on.

“got your vials, paps?”

Papyrus started, momentarily staving off his quest to free himself from the Slyven’s hold to blink at him, before pointing a finger towards the saddlebags lashed onto the same Slyven. Sans fingered open three of the packs before finding them.

They were meticulously wrapped in cloth, obvious care having been taken to prevent accidental breakage. Three of them total, which...should be fine. As long as they didn’t break or get jostled around... _damnit_ Paps. They didn’t have a whole lot of these to begin with; they weren’t exactly _easy_ to make, and if they lost three of them on the road when they could have been safely tucked away in New Home -

...But he’d already lost. And if Papy was going to follow him out the gates anyways...there was nothing more for it.

“welp. we better get going,” he said, and grinned at his brother’s surprised look, completely forgetting about the Slyven attempting to eat him alive. “before the road gets dark.”

“NYEH, NYEH...NYEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus burst out, and yanked himself free of the irate Slyven with a burst of energy. He didn’t even complain as Sans unstrapped the package, carefully transferring it to his own Slyven. “I KNEW YOU WOULD COME AROUND, BROTHER! KNOW THAT I, THE GREAT PALADIN PAPYRUS, WILL NOT REST UNTIL WE BRING THESE VAGABONDS TO FRIENDLY JUSTICE!”

“thanks bro,”he said, and despite the trepidation he was feeling, Sans couldn’t stop the genuine smile from crossing his face as he watched his brother clamber onto his Slyven.”you’re a real _pal_...”

“BUT OF COURSE I AM,” Papyrus asserted, gathering up his reigns with a pleased smile - until he caught sight of his grin, and his brother immediately tensed. “SANS, DON’T YOU _DARE - ”_

_“ - adin.”_

Papyrus inhaled deeply as Asgore let out a slightly distressed sounding hum. “THAT IS FINE, EVERYTHING IS FINE,” his brother muttered, “YOU WILL NOT BREAK ME WITH YOUR TERRIBLE PUNS. FOR I AM MADE OF STERNER STUFF.”

...Well when he issued a challenge like _that..._

“guess you’re just gonna have to _stuff_ er through ‘em, huh?” he not-questioned, kicking his Slyven into a trot, and his grin widened as he heard the distinct sound of Papyrus’ teeth grinding together behind him.

“course, you’re the one that wanted to go with me.” Both of them were trotting out of the gates now, heading through the streets that would lead out of the city of New Home, and the monsters in the streets stopped to point and stare at Papyrus’ Paladin armor. “listening to my terrible jokes seems like a fitting _pun_ -ishment.”

That was apparently too much for his brother to take. “SANS YOU USE THAT ONE _EVERY SINGLE DAY_ ,” he asserted, which was a dirty, dirty lie. He used it about three times daily.

“yeah, i know paps. pretty lacka- _day_ -sical effort on my part.”

 _There_ was that bug-eyed look that he loved so much. “STOP.”

Nope. Sorry baby brother, he was just getting started. They had an entire week of traveling ahead of themselves, after all.

Though before Sans could remind Papyrus of this unfortunate fact, the sight of three well-kept Slyvens down the street caught his attention. They were faced towards the outer gates, the ones that would allow them exit out of New Home, but the riders all seemed to be hunched inwards, as if they were all looking at a piece of parchment.

And the middle rider had him raising an eyebrow and nudging his Slyven forward to meet them.

“you lost, kid?” he commented, grinning at the way all three of them startled in their seats. The black-armored Royal Guard immediately straightened up at attention, smashing their forearms across their breastplates in deference to Papyrus behind him, but he focused on the human. “the royal palace is the really big one up on the hill”.

“Oh, Sans,” she said, lowering the parchment. It looked like a map. “I couldn’t find you this morning, I was hoping I’d get to say goodbye.”

He’d figured out what was going on the instant he’d seen the Royal Guard escort, but he asked anyways. “decided to leave, huh?”

Frisk smiled, though it had a bit of a wry twist to it. “I’m not remembering anything else, and I don’t think I can just sit and do nothing anymore. I was suppose to go to Northern Sovredes...someone there has to know where I’m suppose to be, right?”

“We’ll, like, get you there safely,” one of the guards spoke up, the one wearing the bunny eared helmet. “And make sure you, you know. Got someone to, like. Take care of you and all. Right bro?”

“King’s orders,” the other guard rumbled.

“And King Asgore said I’m welcome to come back here if I can’t find anyone,” Frisk finished, shrugging slightly. “So...it’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

Better than sitting around and waiting for an answer to fall into her lap? He could relate. “heh. guess so.”

“SANS!”

He blinked, having almost forgotten about his brother behind him. “WHO IS THIS HUMAN FRIEND OF YOURS?” Papyrus questioned eagerly, eyeing Frisk. “I KNOW IT IS DIFFICULT TO BE AS COOL AS ME, BUT YOU SHOULD AT _LEAST_ INTRODUCE US!”

Whoops. “paps, frisk,” he introduced, gesturing from the skeleton to the human. “frisk, this is my bro papyrus, the coolest skeleton ever.”

Papyrus preened. “THAT’S RIGHT! IT IS A TERRIBLE THING, THAT WE DO NOT HAVE TIME TO BECOME BETTER ACQUAINTED, HUMAN!” his brother said mournfully, and he watched carefully as Frisk’s eyebrows slowly rose upwards. “PLEASE TRY NOT TO FEEL SAD. NEXT WE MEET, I PROMISE I SHALL ALLOW YOU ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD TO BASK IN MY COOL PRESENCE AND FRIENDSHIP!”

Frisk made a thoughtful sounding hum underneath her breath as she glanced towards him, then back towards Papyrus. “That...really is terrible,” she commented. “I can’t believe I’m missing such, ah...wonderful opportunity, to make a cool friend like you.”

He grinned as Papyrus nodded solemnly. “ALAS, DEAR FRISK, IT WAS NOT MEANT TO BE. DO NOT FEEL DISHEARTENED! ATTEND TO SOME PUZZLES, SOME CAPERS AND JAPERS, TO DISTRACT YOURSELF.”

“pretty sure she’s got some other things to _puzzle_ out beforehand, bro,” he cut in, and received a less than friendly punch to the shoulder for his efforts.

“AND FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, HUMAN. DO NOT EVER, _EVER,_ ENTERTAIN MY BROTHER’S TERRIBLE PUNS,” Papyrus breathed aggressively, teeth clenched together. “THAT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PIECE OF FRIENDSHIP ADVICE THAT I, THE GREAT PALADIN PAPYRUS, CAN GIVE YOU!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Frisk said genially, resting her arms on the saddle of her Slyven. Her closed eyes darted back over to him however, and Sans felt his grin widen as she looked back towards Papyrus. “But only because I can tell that they really...”

The significant pause had his brother locking up, incredibility mixed with despair as he sucked in one soft, whimpering breath.

“... _brother_ you.”

Papyrus’ head snapped around to him so fast that he swore he heard the _snap_ of it. “YOU’VE ALREADY CORRUPTED HER, HAVEN’T YOU,” his brother accused, eyes bugging so far out of his skull that they threatened to fall straight out of it.

Which was really unfair. Frisk was just naturally disposed to bad puns and good laughs, wasn’t really _his_ fault -

“No, he didn’t.”

The both of then blinked, turning their heads back around towards Frisk as she shrugged again. “I was _bone_ this way.”

...

_Pfft -_

“I AM GOING TO WAIT BY THE GATES, BROTHER,” Papyrus ground out slowly, in a very low tone of voice, “SO THAT I MAY HAVE TIME TO REFLECT ON WHAT A TERRIBLE FATE I HAVE BEEN CURSED WITH, TO BE RELATED TO A MONSTER LIKE _YOU!”_

Papyrus was already kicking his Slyven down the road, but that didn’t stop him. “that’s a pretty big a- _curse_ -sation, paps!” he yelled at his brother’s retreating back, and grinned at the subsequent screech from the skeleton before turning back towards the other three. The two Royal Guards were sitting stock still, like they weren’t sure how they were suppose to be acting in the face of the Arbiter and a Paladin bickering like little kids, and Frisk was back to her neutral deadpanned expression.

Even though he liked to think the corners of her mouth were twitched upwards.

He _had_ said they needed to be getting on the road, though. “welp,” he said succinctly as he stuck out one hand, “it was nice meeting ‘ya, kid. hope you find what you’re looking for.”

The deadpanned stare twitched, and a real smile broke out on her face as Frisk took his proffered hand, her grip firm. “Me too,” she said as they shook hands, “and...thanks for everything, Sans.”

He tilt his head and winked at the human. “heh. no worries.” It was a testament to how lost the human girl was, he thought. She’d lost the only certainties she’d had in the entire world - her parents, her guards, her purpose - and instead of raging and crying and asking why life was so unfair, she was thanking him.

He really did hope she found what she was looking for.

He didn’t repeat the sentiment again however, merely nodded at the two royal guards, before turning his Slyven around. “stay safe, kiddo,” he said, less of a request and more of warning, and threw up a hand over his shoulder in farewell as he followed the streets down towards the outer gates.

Papyrus was there just as he said he’d be, still silently fuming. But there was genuine joy he could see lurking behind his brother’s annoyed features, joy that broke out into the open as the gates were thrown wide, allowing them to gallop out into the countryside.

Him and Paps, riding side by side, huh?

There were still concerns, as there always were. What if the Crippled Wings weren’t the end of the road, what if it went deeper than a petty bandit group, what if Papyrus’ vials were lost on the journey. _What if, what if, what if._ But even as the _what if_ s crowded around his skull, as he glanced to his side and caught Papyrus looking right back at him, smile wide on his face -

Well.

For once, he’d worry about them later. Because for now...now he was with Paps, and Raslen and the Crippled Wings and judgement were on the far horizon.

He’d enjoy the peace, while it lasted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter seems a little confusing or convoluted - I started it almost two weeks ago, and only finished it today, so it's a little disjointed. xD; Still hope you guys like it though!
> 
> Also, I started a Tumblr blog at talekeeper-tales.tumblr.com for my stories, some concept/reference art - things like that. And it'll mostly be centered around this story, so I can have references for characters, keep track of the timeline, maybe try to get a map of Th'nevun if I can manage that. So if you have questions about this story that you want to ask, or want more information, then head on over there and let me know! (Though fair warning: a lot of stuff I'm planning on inserting into the story piece by piece, so there may be questions I don't answer, or answer very vaguely, because of spoilers). 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and leaving Kudos and comments, it really means a lot to me! You guys are the best. <3


	4. Trailing Onwards

 

 

“so i told the guy, hey buddy. how’s about a nice steak?”

“A STEAK? SURELY A HEALTHY BOWL OF SPAGHETTI WOULD HAVE BEEN MORE FILLING!”

“yeah, that’s what he said too.”

“REALLY? HA! A HUMAN WITH FINE TASTE IN CUISINE!”

“yup. he said not choosing the spaghetti would’ve been a real mis- _steak._ ”

_“NYEEEEEH!”_

Suffice to say, the peace hadn’t lasted.

Largely - okay, almost _solely_ \- due to himself, but honestly, could he be blamed? His big brother instincts were practically _forcing_ him to punish his little bro for insisting on coming along for the ride, and what better way to do that then to fill his day with endless puns and jokes?

It was his favorite thing to do after all, right after nothing.

“I AM TOTALLY TELLING ON YOU TO KING ASGORE,” Papyrus threatened, jangling the reins of his Slyvan. “PLEASE TELL ME YOU DON’T CARRY OUT YOUR DUTIES AS ARBITER WITH THE SAME WANTON DISREGARD FOR A CITIZEN’S SANITY AS YOU DO MY OWN, BROTHER!”

“well...” he started slowly, with a mocking tilt of his voice that grew in direct correlation with the growth of Papyrus’ eyes slowly bulging out from his skull.

“SANS...”

“heh. c’mon, bro,” Sans said, holding up one hand in a peaceful gesture, “give me a little credit here. you know i’d never abuse my power as arbiter.”

Papyrus sniffed, eyeing him suspiciously. “SO YOU DON’T TORTURE THE CITIZENS OF MONSTROM WITH YOUR INCESSANT PUNNING?”

“nope,” he answered solemnly, “never.”

The younger skeleton raised an eyebrow, but eventually nodded in a mollified sort of fashion. “I SUPPOSE THE ARBITER OF MONSTROM WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO DO HIS DUTY IF HE WENT ABOUT BOONDOGGLING ALL DAY - ”

“ - which i know you _ar-biter_ about - ”

“I REGRET EVERYTHING!” Papyrus screeched as he chuckled, and the Paladin spurred his Slyvan forward with a single minded frenzy, as if some distance would shield him from the power of his puns.

Pfft. He’d thought his brother would’ve remembered his teleportation prowess by now.

But even as Papyrus grit his teeth and kicked at the sides of his Slyvan to speed it up even faster, Sans felt his grin dip downwards a little bit, subtly watching his brother move ahead from underneath his hood. The other skeleton didn’t notice his perusal, which was just as well.

Because Papyrus wasn’t _along_ for the ride, he was a part of it. Papyrus would be there and - if it came down to it - fighting alongside him. His brother would bear witness to everything and potentially have to act on his own accord. Papyrus was a Paladin, and would be an active part of this investigation until it came to an end.

No matter how sick he was.

Unwittingly, Sans dropped a hand to the saddlebag gently bumping against the left side of his Slyvan. The vials inside were still safely wrapped up, and even though Papyrus had complained about being ‘babied’ when Sans had insisted on moving the bag over to his own Slyvan, he’d handed it over with only token protests.

_“IF YOU INSIST, BROTHER. I TRUST YOU!”_

...Heh heh. First mistake, bro.

It still chafed at him. Sure, Papyrus hadn’t had an episode in a long while, according to both himself and the healers he’d checked in with, but that could change in an instant. What would happen if they got separated somehow, and Papyrus fell flat onto his face without any means of helping himself? What if he -

_died all alone out in the wilderness_

...

Welp.

That’s what big bro was here for. Keeping glued to Papyrus’ side while they hunted down the Crippled Wings, maintaining subtle watch over him...he’d done a lot more to keep his brother safe. This would hardly be a chore.

“aw, c’mon bro,” he wheedled, nudging his Slyvan forward to catch up to the irate skeleton. Papyrus threw him a sidelong glare. “you can’t tell me you regret tagging along after all.”

That did the trick, softening Papyrus’ expression into one of surprise. “OF COURSE NOT, SANS!” he said, so swiftly and so confidently that Sans actually felt a spike of envy course through him. How nice it must be, to be so confident in a simple decision without constantly second guessing the choice.

Just one of the things that made his brother so cool.

“I WILL NEVER REGRET BRINGING EVILDOERS AND UNCOOL FRIENDS TO JUSTICE,” his brother went on, and sure enough, one of his hands had traveled to his breastplate in a heroic gesture, “AS I, THE GREAT PALADIN PAPYRUS, AM THOROUGHLY CAPABLE OF SPREADING MY TEACHINGS OF COOL PLATONIC FRIENDSHIPS TO ALL THAT NEED THEM!”

Sans chuckled despite himself. “atta boy, paps,” he said, sweeping his eyes past his brother towards the horizon. “because...welp. i’ve got a feeling that you’re gonna have a lot of teaching on your hands, soon.”

“WHICH I WILL GLADLY DO, WITH AS MANY HUGS - AND BOOTS TO THE FACE - AS REQUIRED,” Papyrus finished confidently, head held high. Even his Slyvan tossed its head in equal fervor, and for a moment, Sans felt just a little blinded by the sunlight he could practically _see_ shining out of Papyrus’ every bone.

So cool, his bro.

“hey, whatever works,” he said with a shrug, “so long as we get these attacks to stop.”

“YES,” Papyrus mused, rubbing one hand underneath his chin. “I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE THESE...CRIPPLED WINGS? THESE CRIPPLED WINGS HAVE BEEN ATTACKING HUMANS IN MONSTROM BECAUSE THEY _LIKE_ HUMANS.”

“guess they’re not afraid to sacrifice a few of their precious humans if it means a new war,” Sans surmised, even as the irony of their actions almost prompted another chuckle out of him. It _was_ funny, really, that the Crippled Wings loved humans so much that they were willing to frame Monstrom...by _killing_ humans. Apparently they didn’t mind working towards a bigger picture.

Assuming it really _was_ the Crippled Wings behind the attacks.

There was something, though, that just wasn’t sitting right with him, something that his instincts were just not happy with...the same way that they had rung alarm bells when he’d found Frisk in the wreckage of the ruins. Something that didn’t quite fit.

If only he could-

“SANS?”

Sans started, pulled out of his musings as he glanced over towards his brother. Papyrus was staring back at him with furrowed eyebrows, looking entirely far more serious than seemed befitting his innocent face. “sup, bro?”

“YOU’VE GOT THAT LOOK ON YOUR FACE,” the other skeleton stated plainly, eyes narrowed in concern. “WHAT IS IT? AND _DON’T_ TELL ME IT IS NOTHING, BROTHER,” he said quickly, and Sans snapped his mouth shut on the immediate, knee-gut reaction to divert Papyrus’ attention with a pun. “I AM A PALADIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD - I NEED TO KNOW ALL THE FACTS NECESSARY IN ORDER TO BRING UNCOOL EVILDOERS TO A SWIFT AND FRIENDLY JUSTICE!”

That’s...that’s right. Papyrus was a Paladin.

Sans let out a breath, even as the force of Papyrus’ gaze kept steady on him. Papyrus was a Paladin - not a little brother to coddle, not a friend to enjoy a long trip with. He had to keep telling himself that, tell himself that this wasn’t some frivolous romp through a town with his brother in tow.

He couldn’t afford to treat Papyrus like a small child, even as much as he would have preferred to.

“it’s just...i dunno bro. not like that - ” he hastened to say, as Papyrus’ face tightened in annoyance, “no, i mean...i really don’t know. there’s something about all this that just doesn’t add up for me.”

The younger skeleton frowned, this time in contemplation. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, SANS?”

“think about it, paps,” he said. “i mean...c’mon. the crippled wings? they’ve been out of action for decades, even centuries...then all of a sudden, they just _happen_ to pop up outta the woodwork all over again?” Sans shook his head. “shiny new weapons, organized attacks at key points on the accordian road? something doesn’t add up.”

Papyrus accepted his comments with a considering grimace, hand once again rubbing at his chin. “IT _DOES_ SEEM VERY STRANGE,” the younger skeleton conceded. “BUT WHAT COULD IT POSSIBLY MEAN?”

Sans shrugged, and this time, Papyrus accepted the gesture without suspicion of him withholding information. “that’s the thing, paps. could mean...well. might be someone else, pulling the strings.”

“USING THE CRIPPLED WINGS, BROTHER? BUT TO WHAT END?”

He chuckled, though there wasn’t much humor in his voice. “you tell me, buddy. there’s a lot of people who’d like to see another war.”

Papyrus let out a soft, hurt sort of hum, and Sans immediately regretted his words. He still regretted Papyrus even coming on this investigation with him...but in the end, there was only so much he could do to shield his brother from the depravities of the world. The idea that someone or some _ones_ would purposefully engineer a bloody war was a completely foreign, unthinkable idea in his brother’s eyes, cool dude that he was.

Papyrus was a Paladin. Sooner or later, he had to grow up.

...

“hey, c’mon bro, what’s with the long face?” he cajoled, leaning over his Slyvan to nudge at Papyrus’ arm. “even with those types of guys around, you and me will be there to stop them, right?”

The words had their desired effect, Papyrus perking up immediately. “THAT’S RIGHT!” he declared loudly, tossing his head back. His Slyvan copied the movement yet again. “WE WILL PUT AN END TO THE CRIPPLED WINGS, AND WHOEVER DARES TO PULL THESE STRINGS OF DECIDEDLY NON-PLATONIC FRIENDSHIP!”

“uh, i don’t think that means what you think it does,” he tried, but Papyrus was past hearing at this point.

“WATCH OUT, CRIMINALS! BE PREPARED, FOR THE AMOUNT OF FUN YOU WILL HAVE...IS ACTUALLY QUITE SMALL!”

Which...well. Was fine by him.

“welp,” he said placidly, as Papyrus’ scarf fluttered gaily in the slight breeze, “we should probably start looking for a place to set up camp. you think?”

Papyrus paused in his speech, shielding his eyes against the setting sun. “AH, OF COURSE, SO THAT WE MAY RECUPERATE OUR STRENGTH FOR IMMENSE AMOUNTS OF FRIENDSHIP LESSONS TOMORROW!”

Sans was already nudging his Slyvan deeper towards the outcropping of rocks he could see in the distance, but he nodded all the same. “and a couple days afterwards, bro. i’m thinking that, uh.” He paused, and grinned over his shoulder at his brother. “we’re gonna be working together for a long while.”

Papyrus smiled brightly. “INDEED, BROTHER! WE WILL MAKE A COOL PAIR OF SKELETON DUDES!” his brother said enthusiastically, pushing his own Slyvan forward, and he grinned and turned back around in his saddle.

“yup,” he hummed, and let the silence spiral for a moment, contentment practically radiating from the skeleton behind him.

“that’s pretty a- _pair_ -ent.”

Just because he could.

By the time Papyrus’ screeches had faded in the wind, he’d already reached the outcropping of rocks and had begun to set up camp. Luckily, they were skeletons and naturally resistant to the cold, so a fire wouldn’t be needed in the cooling sundown. They didn’t want to draw attention from any roving Wilderbeasts or Nithars...or anything else that might be wandering the wilds. The Holden Heath - the expanse of flat land that ran north of New Home - wasn’t normally privy to dangerous wildlife, but he wasn’t about to take any unnecessary chances.

As such, Sans only settled out his own roll of blankets underneath the largest rock, and even went as far as to brush out some of the dried grasses and plants next to him for Papyrus, because he was a good brother like that.

Too bad Paps didn’t see it that way.

“YOU ARE THE WORST,” Papyrus claimed as he hopped off of his Slyvan, tying it up next to his own. “CAN’T YOU GO FOR EVEN ONE DAY WITHOUT YOUR INCESSANT NEED TO PLAGUE MY LIFE WITH TERRIBLE JOKES?”

Sans grinned, and opened his mouth to -

“NO,” the taller skeleton sighed, as he wheezed and gurgled against the hand clapped tightly across his mouth. “FORGET IT. I KNOW I MUST COME TO TERMS WITH YOUR INCURABLE LEVELS OF UNCOOL, BROTHER.”

He shrugged and shot his brother a finger gun, to which he received another annoyed sigh before the hand finally left his mouth. Apparently Paps was tired, because he was getting off easy.

That was a _cure_ -iosity in and of itself.

...

Pfft.

But Sans left off at that, settling his back against the rock outcropping as Papyrus rummaged around in his own packs, grumbling all the while. The sun was almost completely disappeared on the horizon, and while he normally liked to travel until it was well into nighttime, Papyrus’ armor made it a bit more difficult. It reflected moonlight almost as easily as it did the sun, and even though his brother’s traveling cloak covered most of it up, it was still better to choose a resting spot during the dim and bleary hours of dusk and dawn on the off chance that a stray reflection gave watching eyes any ideas.

Not that Sans _felt_ they were being watched, no. But hey, one could never be too careful. Speaking of...

Sans snapped the fingers of his left hand, and felt more than saw Papyrus start as a Gaster Blaster was abruptly called into being. The spirit creature’s rattling breaths seemed to chill the air more than the rising night sky did as it floated in place for a moment, looking towards him, and he regarded it fondly.

It’d been weird, at first, realizing that he had bonded to the creatures he’d found in Gaster’s old laboratory. Felt kind of dirty. But no matter what he felt about them, he couldn’t deny that they’d proven _more_ than useful over the years since he’d bonded to them. They were powerful, in and of themselves, and they were loyal. Not every Summoner got so lucky to bond to even a single spirit creature like these Gaster Blasters.

And he got a veritable _army_ of them.

“SO THAT IS A GASTER BLASTER?”

It was Sans’ turn to start, blinking over towards his brother. Papyrus was staring at the Gaster Blaster in awe and curiosity. “WOWIE,” the younger skeleton said in a hushed whisper, knees clutched to his chest. “I DIDN’T REALIZE THEY WERE SO BIG! AND...SKELETAL!”

“y-yeah,” he mumbled, feeling a bit uncertain. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Paps had never actually _seen_ his spirit creatures, had only heard about them in the rare letters he’d sent back to New Home. He’d found them while Papyrus had been unconscious, after all, and afterwards...

Afterwards, he’d immediately started searching, and in those six years he’d only come home for Undyne’s funeral rites. It clicked home, again, how long it’d been since he’d last seen his brother, and Sans was struck anew with guilt.

“uh...paps? meet a gaster blaster. gaster blaster? meet my bro,” he faux-introduced, ready to launch a quip about bones and numbskulls to assuage himself of the guilt -

But then he paused, raising his eyebrows as the Gaster Blaster drifted close to Papyrus.

That was kind of...weird. Usually, Gaster Blasters either stayed put or slowly faded back to the spirit plane if he didn’t give them any command.

It wasn’t as if spirit creatures were actually _alive,_ no matter how solid they felt or how they looked. They didn’t have souls, and as such, had no direction in the physical plane unless their Summoner gave them one. Of course, some of them showed very faint hints of personalities and thought processes, but they were entirely uncommon.

Like _this_ one, apparently.

Papyrus’ eyes bulged outward as the Gaster Blaster briefly pressed against his side. “HE IS BEAUTIFUL,” the skeleton declared, reaching out to rub the creature’s skull like it was a _puppy_ , for crying out loud. “AND CUTE! NEARLY ENOUGH TO MATCH I, THE GREAT PALADIN PAPYRUS, IN EXTREME CUTENESS!”

“it,” Sans corrected, though without much heat as he watched the exchange, _“it’s_ beautiful.” The Gaster Blaster didn’t react to the petting at all, only broke off from the skeleton and glided back towards him, searing blue eyes unreadable. Sans stared at it a moment, before he jerked his thumb over one shoulder. The Gaster Blaster immediately moved around him to float towards the top of the rock outcropping, and he turned to follow it with his gaze.

...Huh. Interesting.

All the Gaster Blasters appeared the same to him, but...were they all actually different? There were at least a hundred distinct Gaster Blasters that he could call on at any time, and given the origins that had gone into their creation...he supposed it wasn’t implausible. None of them had ever reacted to another person or creature in any sort of manner that would suggest anything but mindless observation of his orders, just like most other spirit creatures.

Granted, those orders had, so far, consisted of tearing other people and creatures to pieces with their energy blasts, so he supposed he’d never really given them a chance to interact with anything that they weren’t killing. Heh.

The Summoner and researcher in him was simply itching to know more, to test and discover and conclude.

But the son of a madman won out in the end. Knowing what had been used to create the tortured creatures...welp. Suffice to say, he was content not digging around any deeper. The Gaster Blasters were useful in what they did, and that’s all they needed to do. He was bound to the results of his father’s research for the rest of his life - that didn’t mean he needed to pry into them any further.

He’d had quite enough of that, for his lifetime.

“get some sleep, paps,” he said lazily, relocating himself back against the rocky outcropping and pointing a finger upwards. From above, the Gaster Baster spun in a very slow circle, eyes taking in the still landscape around it. “it’ll keep an eye socket out for us.”

Heh heh. Great thing about being a Summoner was that he could always sleep with one eye open. His old colleagues from New Home’s Magical School of Magical Magic would balk at the idea of expending so much energy to keep a spirit creature Summoned for an entire night, but...hey.

With only two of them on the road, it was worth it for a decent night’s sleep. He’d pay for the magical expenditure once they reached Raslen, but it was nothing a long night’s rest wouldn’t fix right up.

“REALLY? WOWIE!” Papyrus said wonderingly, still gazing at the Gaster Blaster, “THAT IS AMAZING.” The skeleton settled himself down as well, still fully clad in armor. Couldn’t be very comfortable, but even Papyrus knew the importance of always being ready to move at a moment’s notice. “I WANT ONE!”

He couldn’t help himself - he chuckled. “trust me paps, you don’t want one.”

Even with his head bowed against his chest, Sans could _hear_ the pout in his voice. “MAYBE I DO,” Papyrus countered. “I’LL STUDY MAGIC AND GET MY OWN SUPER COOL SUMMON!”

“oh yeah?” he mumbled sleepily. “what’ll you get?”

“SOMETHING BIG AND COOL...AND FRIENDLY!” The younger skeleton moved around, metal clanking as he struggled to get comfortable. “AND OF COURSE, A MASTER PUZZLER TO MATCH ME, MASTER PUZZLE PUZZLER, IN GREATNESS!”

Sans didn’t bother pointing out that spirit creatures didn’t think on their own, much less solve puzzles. “sounds good bro,” he said agreeably, shifting around against the rocks at his back.

A satisfied “NYEH” from his right signaled the end of the conversation, and the quiet of the night settled in on them. Sans tuned himself into the Gaster Blaster above him, briefly opened up his spirit sight to gaze out at the landscape from atop the rocks, before he blinked back to the physical plane, reaching up to tug his hood further down over his face.

Sleep was easy coming after a long day of riding. Sans muffled a yawn as he let his head fall forward, braced against his chest.

“SANS?”

“...hmm?”

A quiet rustle from beside him as Papyrus shifted around. “I CAN’T FALL ASLEEP.”

Some things never changed, huh. A small and cherished comfort in this world. His brother would never truly understand just how cool he really was.

“yeah?” he said easily, lacing his fingers across his stomach. “you want a story? how about the bunbon and chariot again?”

“MMM.” Another rustle. Sans imagined Papyrus pulling his traveling cloak tighter around his body. “TELL ME ABOUT MOM AGAIN.”

_“Look after your brother, Sans. Okay? He needs you, promise you’ll take care of him for mommy.”_

“heh heh...mom, huh?”

A peek out from underneath his hood showed Papyrus nodding sleepily against the mound of cloth that was serving as the skeleton’s pillow.

...Welp.

“she was...a soldier.”

“LIKE ME?” Papyrus asked, like he always did.

“yup,” he answered like he always did, tilting his face backwards to better survey his brother. Papyrus’ eyes were still locked onto him, but they were half-lidded, a sure sign of sleep slowly chasing after the skeleton. “exactly like you, bro.”

Papyrus let out another contented sigh.

“and she fought criminals and evildoers, just like you,” he continued, watching as his brother’s eyes slowly fell closed. “she was...”

“BEAUTIFUL?”

“mhm. beautiful, and strong.”

_“My beautiful, brave boy.”_

“and fearless.”

“WHAT DID SHE...LOOK LIKE...”

Sans paused, stiff all over. But Papyrus’ breath leveled out even as he breathed the words, and soon, light snores began to echo across the Holden Heath, an almost harmonic counterpart to the Gaster Blaster’s faint rattling breaths from up above.

And Sans let out his own breath as he lay his head back against the rocks, grateful to have dodged yet another round of vague answer giving.

Because how could he admit to Papyrus that he didn’t remember Mom’s face anymore, if he ever had? He’d only been five when she’d died, his last memory of her distorted by a distraught Gaster carrying her away to the village healer as he’d been left behind, clutching onto her scarf and Papyrus both and too tearful, too young to understand what was happening.

When he tried to picture Mom’s face, the only thing he saw were reddened, pain-filled eyes, and a blackness that had turned her bones to fragile rot.

...Welp.

At least he had peace for one more night.

With the comforting snores of his brother beside him, Sans pulled his hood back down over his face, letting the darkness block out the dim twilight as he settled in for a - hopefully - dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

To say their appearance in Raslen stirred up a bit of fuss would be an understatement.

Papyrus soaked it in, too high on the excitement of undertaking an official assignment from the King, but Sans couldn’t help keeping an eye out as they rode past the monsters that eyed them in turn.

A little less than a town but a little more than a settlement, Raslen had clearly seen better days before. The village was run down and dirty looking, completely lacking the crystalline technology that powered most of Monstrom with magic, and looked more like a page from a history book than anything else. Simplistic wooden buildings, wells, and constructions gave off a very comely feel, and Sans had a small inkling that the extent of Raslen’s prowess lay in their farming equipment.

“GREETINGS, YOUNG MONSTERS,” Papyrus called out gleefully as they pulled their Slyvans to a stop in front of the stables. Two children stared back up at them, one a spider monster, the other a dog. “DO NOT WORRY! I, THE GREAT PALADIN PAPYRUS, AM HERE TO PUT AN END TO UNCOOL SHENANIGANS OF ALL DEGREES!”

“uh, paps,” he cautioned as the stable master came out of his little wooden shack, a severe frown on his face. “think you should maybe cool it with the heroic paladin bit.”

Papyrus blinked, brows furrowing in confusion. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BROTHER?”

A loud snuffling sound interrupted them, and Sans continued to affect a lazy and laid-back pose on his Slyvan as the stable master snuffled again, resting a meaty paw on one of the dog child’s shoulders. The large wolf monster didn’t say a word, regarding the both of them with steely eyes, and for a moment, Sans wondered if they’d have a real problem on their hands before they’d even started investigating.

But after a tense moment, the wolf monster held out one hand, paw right-side up.

“couple nights,” Sans said, tossing the required coins at the stable master as he started unlacing his travel bags. The wolf caught the gold pieces with a practiced ease, counting them out as he slid down from his Slyvan while Papyrus copied his movements next to him. “food and hoof care, too.”

The stable master grunted, before he let out a soft growl. The children immediately skirted to obey, grabbing at the reins of the Slyvans and leading them into their stalls. Sans watched them for a moment, before sliding closer to the tense wolf.

“and hey, listen,” he said as he passed by. He pressed the extra gold pieces into the wolf’s paw, felt the other monster stiffen slightly. “keep a good eye on ‘em, pal, would you?”

The nod was barely perceptible from the monster, but he caught it all the same.

Good. That meant extra protection for their Slyvans from any wandering thieves. Honestly, it wouldn’t be too much trouble to get another pair of Slyvans if theirs got stolen or ‘misplaced’, but it’d sure save a headache in the long run. Clapping the wolf monster on one shoulder, Sans tossed his head at his brother, and lead the way back down the road to slip inside the inn.

“And where are you two come from?” the spring-loaded monster questioned a bit aggressively, bouncing steadily up and down on her spring.

“down the road, pal,” he answered easily enough, even as he slid more gold across the counter towards her. The spring monster gave him a suspicious look, but slapped her face down onto the counter, using her forehead to bring the coins closer towards her. “from bu’dreden.”

The spring monster finished sweeping the coins away, but returned upright with the same suspicious stare. “Traveling?”

“INDEED, GOOD MADAM!” Papyrus cut it, lifting a hand to his breastplate. Sans struggled not to palm his forehead. “ACROSS MANY DANGEROUS - AND MANY BORING - LANDS!”

“Come all the way to Raslen?” The spring monster’s gaze was roving over Papyrus’ cloak, and Sans could see exactly what she could - hints of armor peeking out from underneath, a very obvious sword hanging from Papyrus’ belt, and the telling bump on the back that could only belong to a shield. “Out of the way?”

“listen, buddy,” he cut back in, ignoring Papyrus’ huffed irritation as he slid even more gold across the counter. “we’re pretty tired from traveling. think we can hurry this along?”

The spring monster regarded him for a moment longer, before she eventually swept up the new gold. “Right this way?” she said, and began bouncing up the steps. Sans shot a wink over his shoulder towards his brother, before following her upstairs.

It was a modest room, with two beds, a small table, and an even smaller washroom, which all worked well enough for him. Sans immediately found a spot on one of the beds as Papyrus began undoing all his armor.

“WELL, I THINK WE MADE A WONDERFUL FIRST IMPRESSION,” Papyrus said enthusiastically, fiddling with the straps of his gauntlets. “FIRST IMPRESSIONS ARE VERY IMPORTANT!”

“yup,” Sans agreed, and didn’t bother biting back the yawn that escaped him. The week of using Gaster Blasters as lookouts all nights had long caught up to him. “but don’t get your hopes up, paps. i’ve got a feeling first impressions aren’t gonna cut it, here.”

“THE TOWNSFOLK _DID_ SEEM SUITABLY AWED BY MY IMMENSE AMOUNTS OF COOL,” Papyrus conceded, heaving his armor off and carefully setting it aside. Unwittingly, Sans’ eyes were automatically drawn to the right side of Papyrus’ rib cage, and he averted his gaze with a frown. “WHAT IS THE PLAN, BROTHER?”

“the plan?” he repeated uncomfortably, giving himself a mental shake as he settled his arms behind his head. “hmm...the plan is...to sleep.”

Papyrus let out a long suffering sigh. “I MEAN THE PLAN TO CATCH THE CRIPPLED WINGS, SANS!”

“hey, calm down, bro,” he huffed, grinning up at the ceiling, “you’re _crippling_ my style, heh. but i’m serious,” he continued on as he heard Papyrus’ teeth grinding against one another. “it’s too late to go around and start interrogating people. they’re already suspicious of us.” Sans yawned again and turned onto his side. “we’ll start first thing in the morning.”

“I SUPPOSE THAT MAKES SENSE,” his younger brother said slowly.

“sure does. get some sleep, paps,” he instructed, “we’re gonna have our work cut out for us tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

Welp. The day had been pretty productive.

By which he meant he’d gotten pretty much nothing done at all, which was his absolutely favorite thing to do.

Sans couldn’t help feel a little frustrated, however, as he trudged through the town and was met with suspicious glares and unfriendly faces. It was clear that strangers were not entirely welcome in Raslen, but whether that was because the town was the base of the Crippled Wings, or simply because the townspeople had had bad luck with strangers in the past, was a mystery.

Either way, no one had been forthcoming with any information at all. Again, it wasn’t entirely clear if they were hiding something or truly had no information on the Crippled Wings at all...but he was pretty good at reading faces. Sword to his neck? He’d go with the former.

Sans paused in his walk, staring up at the statue of some fish monster in the middle of the village. There was no archaic _Accession_ symbol anywhere on the statue, apparently having been cleaned up at some point in the village’s history.

Could the Crippled Wings have moved somewhere else? If they had, then...

He was truly, well and truly, _boned._

...Heh.

“Uh, you’re in my way.”

Sans blinked, turned around and looked down the requisite two feet to see a green, squid-looking monster child standing behind him. The beady eyes stared back up at him, and unlike the rest of the town, there was no fear or suspicion in them. Instead, Sans was treated to a bored looking expression that could rival even his own on the best of days, and one of his green tentacles waved around again.

“Man, I said you’re in my way.”

“sorry?” Sans ventured, and took a polite step to the right. The squid child squinted at him, and he took another two steps, keeping his hands in his pockets as he grinned at the other monster, who let out a gusty sigh.

“What a drag,” he mumbled, shuffling forwards towards the statue, “like, this totally blows.”

“tell me about it,” he said agreeably, even as he watched the monster child poke around at the base of the statue. He would have thought it suspicious looking if the monster wasn’t so obviously _not_ trying to not be suspicious looking. “what’s your name, kid?”

“Jerry,” Jerry answered flatly, in the same bored tone that was a perfect match to his deadpanned expression. His tentacles continued poking around the statue base.

“nice to meet you, jerry.” His overture at friendship was met with another bored stare. “you uh...need some help there?”

“I wish,” Jerry muttered, now leaning into the statue - apparently one of his tentacles had slipped into a hole at the base. “But I’m not allowed to, like, let anyone help me or whatever. Man, this sucks.”

Okay...what’d he say about suspicious?

“you’re not allowed to let anyone help you with what?”

“Taking this to Onnie,” the monster child answered, and the confusion on what “this” was became clear only a moment later, as Jerry pulled his tentacle out from the statue’s base. Sans felt himself straighten at the sight of the tightly wound package, circular in shape, but with distinct ridges on the sides that could only be pieces of gold.

Secret hiding places for a modest sum of money? That wasn’t suspicious at all, nope.

“whatcha got there, pal?” he asked lightly, still affecting an air of innocence even as he studied the monster child. This had to be the weirdest secret exchange of money he’d ever witnessed, probably because he was actually _witnessing_ it. Jerry wasn’t even _trying_ to hide it.

Desperation, to use a courier as blatant and uncaring as Jerry, here?

“None of your business,” Jerry informed him kindly, and while the words might have been hostile, the tone of voice remained monotone, as if Jerry could honestly care less that his oh-so-discreet pickup was being watched by someone standing three feet away. “I’m not suppose to show this to anyone, either.”

“bit too late for that, don’t you think?” he said mildly, and winked at the monster.

Jerry actually paused, staring between Sans and the package, as if it was honestly only now occurring to him that he was not being particularly stealthy.

“Oh,” was all he said, with all the nonchalance in the world, “whatever.” Jerry brightened a moment later. “Hey, my ride’s gone for the week, can you, like, give me a ride?”

“i thought you weren’t suppose to get help with this?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to walk all the way up the mountain,” Jerry said, and Sans raised an eyebrow. “It’ll be totally lame.”

“how’s about you give that to me, i’ll take it for you,” he tried, grinning at the monster child. “or we can take it together. i’ll give you a ride up the mountain, and we’ll have ourselves a cool little trip.”

A slight pause, before he shot the monster child a finger gun and a wink.

“a _tenta_ -cool little trip.”

A gust of wind tugged on his coat as Jerry stared up at him for a long moment.

“Man, what a drag,” the monster child eventually said, with no noticeable change in expression whatsoever, before he turned and toddled off at a lazy pace, disappearing between a row of buildings.

Which, rude. C’mon. Tentacle, tenta- _cool?_ That was pure gold.

Sans waited for just a moment more before he teleported, silently landing on top of one of the buildings. Jerry was walking towards the edge of town, but he stopped and entered into a homely looking house. From the window he could see another, larger squid-shaped monster looking as if she was berating Jerry for something, who in turn simply wandered past her and out of his sight.

For the moment, it seemed, Jerry was at his own home. But for how long?

Something gave him the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t have to wait long.

With a snap of his fingers, the Gaster Blaster entered into the physical plane, and Sans sent it to the thick brush and trees at the edge of the village. It went swiftly, silently, and Sans waited until it was in position before tuning in with the Blaster and blinking open his magical eye. The position gave him the perfect view of the back of the house, easy to see if someone exited the front and went right and left, and, satisfied, Sans teleported back to the inn to take a well deserved nap.

And that’s exactly how Papyrus found him later, as dusk started to fall. Sans lounged against his temporary bed as he heard the distinct clack of armor up the stairs, and prepared himself with a finger gun and a grin.

“I DO NOT CARE HOW MANY BONES YOU HAVE TO PICK WITH ME, SANS,” Papyrus announced as soon as he was through the door, and Sans lowered his hand in disappointment. “AND _I_ SHOULD BE THE ONE PICKING BONES WITH _YOU!_ DID YOU EVEN DO ANYTHING TODAY, BROTHER? OR WERE YOU JUST SITTING AROUND AND BOONDOGGLING AGAIN?”

“aw, c’mon bro, i’ve gotten a ton of work done today,” he said, launching his finger gun back into the air, “a _skele_ \- ”

_“STOP.”_

Damnit.

Sans admitted defeat with a raised hand, palm forward, and Papyrus eventually wandered fully inside the room, depositing his traveling cloak. “so what’ve you been up to all day, paps?”

“WHY, TRACKING DOWN THE CRIPPLED WINGS LIKE WE WERE _SUPPOSE_ TO BE DOING, SANS,” his brother stated, dropping down into a wooden chair. He paused. “AND ALSO TRYING OUT THE LOCAL FARMING FOODS TO FIND BETTER QUALITY INGREDIENTS FOR MY TOMATO SAUCE BASE, BUT _MOSTLY_ \- ”

“i get it,” he said, only half listening. Not because he wasn’t truly interested in his brother’s daily going-ons, but because the Gaster Blaster was rattling in his ear from across the town. Sans opened up his magical eye, and watched as Jerry came around the front of the house, package in hand.

Er...package in tentacle, _pfft._

“AND WOULDN’T YOU KNOW IT,” Papyrus continued on, “THIS TOWN GROWS A DELICIOUS GREEN TOMATO! IF ONLY THERE WAS A WAY TO PRESERVE THEM - I COULD MAKE ALL SORTS OF GREEN TOMATO SAUCES FOR MY SPAGHETTI!”

“that sounds a- _green_ -able,” he said lazily, and ignored Papyrus’ sharply inhaled breath in favor of watching Jerry slowly start trudging up the hillside on the outskirts of town. It could hardly be called a mountain, but then again, Jerry seemed to be having a difficult time of it. Even from this distance he could hear the monster child wheeze and groan and complain about losing his ride because his friend had taken her Slyvan out of town.

He twiddled the fingers of his left hand, and the Gaster Blaster began to follow, slowly and carefully.

“BUT THIS TOWN, SANS...SOMETHING IS VERY STRANGE.”

Oops, Paps was still talking. “yeah?”

“YES! NOT ONLY DO THE TOWNSPEOPLE SEEM VERY AVERSE TO COOL HUGS FROM A COOL SKELETON SUCH AS MYSELF - ”

“not many people can handle that amount of cool, bro.”

“WHILE THAT IS INDEED TRUE, THESE TOWNSPEOPLE ARE EXCEEDINGLY DELICATE IN HANDLING COOL FRIENDSHIPS!” Even without looking at Papyrus, he could hear the hurt in the other skeleton’s voice. “NOT MANY EVEN WISHED TO TALK, SANS! I KNOW MY IMMENSE AMOUNTS OF COOL CAN BE A BIT INTIMIDATING, BUT - ”

“buuut, they’re just scared paps. trust me,” he finished, lacing his arms behind his head as he leaned back against the headboard. Jerry was approaching an expanse of rock wall that was etched into the hillside. “takes a lot of courage to talk to a cool dude like you.”

“BUT THAT’S JUST THE THING, BROTHER,” Papyrus said, frustrated. Sans frowned as Jerry walked straight up to the blank rock wall, setting the package down. “I WAS NOT ABLE TO FIND ANY INFORMATION ON THE CRIPPLED WINGS AT ALL! I EVEN OFFERED TO SOLVE ALL THEIR PUZZLES FOR THEM, GREAT FRIEND THAT I AM, BUT THEY ALL SAID THEY HAD NONE.” Another sharply inhaled breath. “NO PUZZLES, SANS! THAT’S JUST...JUST... _WRONG!”_

“it really is a puzzle,” he agreed, and his eyebrows furrowed downwards as Jerry turned and walked away, holding something different in his hands. It looked like...some sort of toy, one that the monster child was fiddling with. And the package?

Gone.

“THIS IS _NOT_ THE TIME FOR YOUR TERRIBLE JOKES,” Papyrus seethed as Sans slowly disbanded his connection to the Gaster Blaster, unSummoning it at the same time. He blinked once, twice, stabilizing himself back in his own body in the inn, and glanced towards Papyrus was who glaring down at him. “THIS IS A VERY SERIOUS PUZZLE!”

“didn’t i just say that?”

Papyrus balked. “WELL...YES, YOU DID, BUT I _KNOW_ YOU MEANT IT AS...NYEH! YOU _KNOW_ WHAT I MEAN!”

Pfft. He did, even though it never, _ever,_ got old, teasing his little bro.

“welp,” he said, hopping off the bed quickly enough to cause Papyrus to start. “let’s get going.”

“WHA - WERE YOU EVEN LISTENING, SANS? I FOUND NOTHING ON THE CRIPPLED WINGS AT ALL!”

“no worries bro,” Sans said as he pulled the bag holding Papyrus’ vials over his head, “i know where they are.”

Sans paused to let that sink in as Papyrus gaped at him. “YOU - YOU DO? WOWIE, SANS!” his brother breathed out admiringly, hand groping blindly for his sword and shield. “HOW DID YOU DISCOVER THEIR TREACHEROUS HIDEOUT?”

“a monster kid told me,” he said simply, holding the door open for his brother, “said he met a cool skeleton who convince him to turn in the bad guys.” Sans grinned and pat his brother on one shoulder. “but he, uh, was too shy to tell you himself, so he told me instead.”

 _“WOWIE!”_ the other skeleton exclaimed passionately, “THAT’S INCREDIBLE! SO MY ULTIMATE COOL _DID_ SOLVE THIS TERRIBLE PUZZLE OF CLEARLY TROUBLED VILLAGERS, AFTER ALL!”

“you bet it did, bro,” he praised, and felt pleasure wash over his senses as Papyrus beamed down at him. “no question.”

Papyrus let out a pleased little hum, and Sans chuckled in turn as they descended the stairs and exited out into the town.

It was a measure of Papyrus’ utter faith in him that he didn’t stop to even question where they were going or what they were heading towards, only following along behind him. There were few townspeople out and about at this time, and even less prone to wandering around forests after sunset. They encountered no resistance whatsoever, and sure enough, half a mile up the hill they were met with the stone rock face embedded into its side.

“HERE, SANS?” Papyrus asked, perplexed, and he couldn’t blame his brother. The rock wall looked as immovable as ever as Sans approached its surface, right where Jerry had been standing. “WHERE ARE THEY?”

“right here, bro,” he answered easily, looking over his shoulder to grin at the other skeleton. “i’d say you were blind, but uh, well.” He winked. “ _eye_ can see where you’re coming from.”

The emphasis on the wording was not lost on Papyrus as his eyes predictably began to bulge outwards, but their inflation stopped, turning wide instead as Sans pressed a hand to the surface of the rock wall - and continued pressing _through_.

“WHY, THOSE SLIPPERY SNAILS,” Papyrus breathed, passing his own hand through the faux barrier. “AN ILLUSION?”

“yup,” Sans said, pulling his hand back. He reached up and pulled his hood further down over his face on reflex, glancing underneath the trim towards his brother. “meaning they’ve got at least a few advanced mages on their side. you ready, bro?”

At once, Papyrus’ expression hardened into fierce glee. “I AM ALWAYS READY TO BRING CRIMINALS TO A FRIENDLY JUSTICE, BROTHER!” he declared, drawing out his sword.

The scrape of metal against scabbard had him grinning as well. “ok,” he said, and slipped inside.

The effect was immediate.

As soon as he stepped through, Sans heard laughter and voices from further in the cave. Apparently whatever illusionary spell they were using muffled sound, as well, and they were so confident in the crude delivery system they’d set up with Jerry that they didn’t even feel the need to post a sentry at the cave entrance.

All the better for them, really. Sans took a few cautious steps inwards as he -

_CLANK_

He frozen instantly, one foot held mid-air, and glanced over his shoulder towards his brother, who gave him a contrite look as he edged away from the walls. In the distance, the sound of voices hadn’t abruptly abated, but Sans couldn’t help letting out a breath anyways, even as his eyebrows furrowed.

He was so used to working alone, he hadn’t even _thought_ about Papyrus’ metal armor echoing up and down the cave system. A Paladin was as far away from a stealth fighter as he was from a Firestarter.

They’d just have to be careful. Sans shot another look at Papyrus and pressed a finger to his teeth, and waited for his brother to nod before he pressed onwards, further down the tunnel.

And was immediately proven wrong.

There _was_ a patrol, though he was seemingly approaching his task just as seriously as Jerry had his own. The seahorse monster was leaning against one side of the tunnel, head jerking against his chest. It was apparent he was trying his hardest not to fall asleep, though that seemed like a losing battle.

The bone was in his hand within a moment’s though, materialized into thin air. Carefully, Sans gauged the distance, and flung back his hand, holding pose for a moment before he -

“SANS!”

He jerked entirely against his will, reeling backwards and thrown off balance by the gauntlet that grabbed his shoulder. His body did the work for him, instinctively following up the unwelcome movement by moving back around the corner, but the sentry only snorted and twitched once.

Leaving him to glare up at his brother. “what?”

Papyrus glared right back down at him, turning his disapproving frown onto the bone in his hand. “SANS! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”

“wha - killing him so we can get past, bro,” he stated without thinking, annoyed at having his concentration broken.

And only realized his mistake as his brother gasped.

“BROTHER! YOU ARE THE ARBITER!” Papyrus hissed, eyebrows furrowed an unacceptable degree over his eyes, and Sans winced and shut his own eyes. “YOU CAN’T GO AROUND KILLING MONSTERS LIKE THAT!”

Damnit...damnit _damnit,_ Asgore. This was one of the reasons he hadn’t wanted -

“bro, listen,” he tried, speaking urgently as the seahorse snuffled in dreamy sleep from around the corner. “it’s...it’s not like i _want_ to, but we gotta get to the main group, right? just let me deal with it.”

“DEAL WITH IT, YES,” Papyrus stated, “BUT KILL HIM? NO!”

Sans couldn’t help himself. He groaned. “paps, these monsters are _killing_ humans and putting the blame on monstrom,” he said, quite reasonably in his own opinion. “no one’s gonna miss them. stopping these attacks is just a _little_ bit more important, don’t you think?”

Papyrus stared. “HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT, BROTHER?” he said incredulously. _“SOMEONE_ WILL MISS THEM. THEY WILL MISS EACH OTHER. AND YES, WHILE I ADMIT THEY’VE MADE SOME VERY UNCOOL MISTAKES - ”

“ - i think killing humans is a _little_ bit more than a mistake, bro - ”

“ - THAT DOESN’T MEAN THEY DON’T DESERVE THE CHANCE TO SEE THE ERROR OF THEIR WAYS!”

“look, we don’t have _time_ for this,” he said through gritted teeth. “bro, listen - ”

“Hey!”

They froze, the both of them, as the sound of a slithering seahorse body echoed down the tunnel. “Jerry, that you?” the sentry called out as he rounded the corner, and Sans glanced at Papyrus and Papyrus glanced down at him. “You know you’re not suppose to come in here for any - ”

Sans reached out with his magic, felt the Soul, and _pulled._

The sentry’s startled cry was quickly muffled by Papyrus’s large hand that covered his face as his body came flying around the corner, and Sans kept a strict hold on the monster with his Summoning magic as the seahorse struggled for a moment, before finally passing out from the lack of oxygen.

Papyrus laid him gently down on the rocky floor, grinning up at him. “SEE, BROTHER?” he crowed. “A MUCH MORE FRIENDLY SOLUTION TO THIS GRIEVOUS PUZZLE!”

Sans felt the need to kick something all of a sudden, and the sentry’s body seemed as good as anything else until Papyrus opened his mouth again. “YOU DON’T... _SURELY_ YOU DON’T HANDLE ALL UNCOOL CONFLICTS WITH SUCH EXTREME MEASURES, DO YOU BROTHER?”

Now he suddenly felt like disappearing into his hood and pretending the world didn’t exist for a couple days. Funny, that.

Sans rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet his brother’s eyes or the force of his disapproval. How could he possibly explain to his brother, the knight in shining armor who always gave everyone, _everyone_ , the benefit of the doubt, even himself?

How could he explain that he’d stopped believing in the goodness of others a long time ago?

“paps,” he started, and stopped, glancing around the corner. The sentry’s shout hadn’t alarmed anyone, and he turned back to the other skeleton. “paps, they’re not gonna go down without a fight. and i can’t - ” Sans stopped again, shuddering, but forced himself to meet Papyrus’ eyes. “this isn’t a puzzle, bro. this is life or death, and they’ll kill us if they get a chance. i can’t...promise anything.”

To his immense surprise, Papyrus nodded immediately. “OF COURSE, BROTHER,” the other skeleton said, and laid a heavy hand onto his shoulder. “IT IS A SHAME THAT NOT ALL MONSTERS CAN BE AS COOL AS US, WISHING TO START A WAR WITH THE HUMANS AND GENERALLY BEING SILLY. A FIGHT IS INEVITABLE.” A pause, before Papyrus’ familiar proud grin crossed his face. “THAT IS WHY I AM HERE, SANS, TO PROTECT YOU WITH MY PALADIN GREATNESS!”

“so why - ”

“SANS,” Papyrus interrupted, with a shake of his head. “I UNDERSTAND. NOT EVERY PUZZLE MAY BE SOLVED WITH JAPERS AND CAPERS.” There was another pause, and Sans knew without asking that Papyrus was thinking of blue scales and red hair and a fierce grin that promised nothing but adventure. “SOMETIMES A FIGHT...SOMETIMES K-KILLING IS NECESSARY, IN DEFENSE OF FRIENDS AND LOVED ONES.

“BUT WHEN IT’S _NOT_ NECESSARY,” he continued on, and here his expression took on the look of someone who knew they spoke nothing but the truth. “THEN IT IS ONLY FAIR TO TAKE ALL MEASURES TO AVOID IT! SO THAT THEY MAY HAVE A CHANCE TO CHOOSE TO DO BETTER!”

“these guys are trying to start a second war between sovredes and monstrom,” Sans felt the need to point out, “they aren’t gonna be doing any better if we ask ‘em nicely.”

And Papyrus’ face hardened, with a proud confidence that stood unwavering in the face of any puzzle.

 _“EVERYONE_ CAN DO A LITTLE BIT BETTER, SANS.”

Even him?

...

Heh heh. Yeah...

Good one, bro.

“ok,” he muttered, and was rewarded with a pleased grin from his brother. Papyrus finally released him, and continued down the tunnel.

Sans glanced down at the unconscious sentry, felt his magical eye flaring up. Every bone in his body was screaming at him to take him out, take him out before he woke up and attacked them from behind, it was stupid, _ludicrous_ to just leave a threat hanging out in the tunnels.

He could just -

“SANS?”

\- leave him there. They’d be passing back this way.

With a quick teleportation Sans had caught up with his brother. Papyrus grinned at him, and despite himself, Sans returned it as they continued on their way.

They didn’t have to go too far. The fire gave them away before their bodies did, and Sans instinctively crouched down as the tunnel moved downwards, opening up into an expanse of cavern well lit by lanterns. He felt Papyrus crouch down beside him, and together they took stock of the situation.

There were about ten of them, though a few alcoves off to the side might have held more. The largest bunch was gathered around the campfire, roasting what looked like the carcass of a deer, while a few more were huddled around some armor and weapons. And if he’d had any doubt about their identity, the right side up symbol of _Accession_ was prominently displayed directly in the center of the cavern, complete with a set of broken and ruffled wings hovering behind it.

Sans glanced at Papyrus, who raised one finger and moved it towards his palm in a leaping motion.

Heh. Smart. Sans nodded, gesturing to his brother, who looked a bit put out but acquiesced with his own nod, moving back into the shadows a bit. Sans waited until Papyrus was low enough to the ground to not be seen over the rise, before he teleported.

It took at least twenty seconds before someone noticed him sitting on top of the rocky ridge, directly above where the campfire had been set up.

“What the - ”

“sup,” he greeted, not bothering to move as the mad scramble for weapons and armor had the monsters running into each other for a good few seconds afterwards. Sans took careful note of what was being picked up - swords, mostly, all bearing remarkable similarities to the ones he’d found in Yvelte, along with a couple of axes, bows, and staves.

“so, listen,” he said genially, “i’m not looking for any trouble.” He _wasn’t_ , but he sure as hell was ready for it anyways. “i just want to have a talk, is all.”

“Who are you,” a fish monster demanded, looking like the apparent leader of the group. The bow wielders were edging back towards the tunnel entrance, arrows knocked. “How’d you get in here?”

“i wouldn’t worry about it,” he said, pausing to wave his right hand at the group. “in fact, i’d worry a lot more about yourselves, right now. ‘cause buddy?”

The wealth of satisfaction that flooded through him at the gasps that echoed around the cavern was powerful, and for a moment Sans liked to imagine the glow from the Arbiter Seal casting all their faces into a fading pall.

“king asgore’s got a little _bone_ to pick with you.”

“Shit,” said a cow monster, and judging by the look on all of their faces, Sans had a feeling that the single word held the general consensus for the entire group.

“you’ve got three seconds,” he explained, snapping his fingers, and twenty bones materialized to life behind him, spread out in a half-circle. The assembled monsters all took a step backwards, every single one. “go.”

“T-three seconds for _what?”_ a dog monster yelped worriedly.

“Shiera, shut _up,”_ the leader snapped, before turning back to face him. “We don’t know what you’re talking about Arbiter, you’ve got the wrong monsters.”

“That’s right!” another cat monster spoke up, brandishing his sword threateningly, “we don’t know nothing about killing no humans.”

Sans paused, along with everyone else, as the leader let out a long suffering sigh and pinched at the brim of his nose.

“i can see it hasn’t been easy for you,” he commented, immediately putting everyone on edge again, “pulling this ragtag team together. but it wasn’t _really_ you, now was it, bud.” Sans grinned, tilting his head. “who’re you working for, huh? be honest.”

“The Crippled Wings don’t work for anyone,” the fish monster sneered, “especially not some sniveling goat coward who’s too afraid to lead Monstrom the way it _should_ be led!”

“think the humans can do any better?” Sans questioned mildly, even though he already knew the answer. Predictably, the leader grinned.

“Think it? I know it,” he laughed, and raised his axe. “In fact, you can think of _this_ as a little gift from them, to you!” Down came the axe in a slashing motion, as the leader triumphantly laughed at him again.

Another pause.

“uh, hate to break it to you, buddy,” he commented, as the assembled monsters all looked around in confusion, “but i’d say now is the time to cut your losses and _bow_ out.”

“SANS, PLEASE!”

As one, the bandits whirled around to see Papyrus emerging from the tunnel, dragging both archers with one hand even as he glared disapprovingly at him. “YOUR INCESSANT PUNNING IS _HARDLY_ GOING TO MAKE THESE EVILDOERS SEE THE ERROR OF THEIR WAYS!”

“hey, c’mon bro, i’m just trying to _err or_ the side of caution, here.”

_“SANS.”_

“Screw it!” the leader cried out, whipping back around towards him, “attack!”

Welp. He’d tried. Honest.

Sans flicked his fingers, and the cries of pain immediately went up as the first volley of bones hits their marks in their shoulders, legs, sides. He could see Papyrus using his shield to bash the face of a charging axe wielder while simultaneously swinging his sword with expert grace, cleaving a staff in two.

Heh heh. So cool, his bro.

Suppose he had to step it up so he wouldn’t be outdone by his little brother.

Two monsters were charging at him, apparently thinking to scale the rock face to get to the ridge he was sitting on, but Sans didn’t bother waiting, instead leaping right over them and landing directly in their midst. Their startled cries were all the warning their fellows got as he grabbed the Souls of three of them and flung them outward, sending them crashing into the axe wielder Papyrus had been fighting, before he was converged on by two more.

It was hardly even a fight. Clearly trained for ambush rather than actual combat, Sans could already see four monsters holding onto their wounds and crawling away, and another two unconscious. He actually felt a little bad for them as he turned, and found the leader charging him down with a battle roar.

“you guys are making this harder than it needs to be, i just wanted to _axe_ you some questions.”

Okay...maybe he didn’t feel _too_ bad.

The fish monster gurgled something that was probably insulting at him as Sans deftly sidestepped the axe that swung at his head, ending up behind the other monster. Even though he did his best work from a distance, he was quick and agile and knew how to hold his own on the front lines, and Sans let that work to his advantage as he Summoned two bones in both hands and met the falling axe with his own weapons.

“Humans forever!” the fish monster growled, struggling to bring the axe down on the bones crossed over his face, and Sans grunted at the weight, glancing to his side. Papyrus was taking on the remaining three who’d apparently decided he was the easier target, and they were pressing hard, Papyrus’ back to a wall.

“yeah yeah, i get it, pal,” he muttered, breaking stance and sidestepping, letting the monster’s pressure on his axe careen him forward into now empty air. Sans quickly loosed one of the bones he’d been using just seconds ago, and before it was even finished impaling itself into the fish monster’s arm he was loosing the second one into the opposite.

“humans are great, monsters are the worst,” he iterated, raising one boot and pressing it on one of the bones, ignoring the pained cries of the trapped fish. “but give me a little credit here, pal. i know you’re too stupid to organize all this. so c’mon, tell me the truth.” He leaned forward on the boot, felt the shift of flesh and muscle from underneath as another scream escaped the monster. “who’s your sponsor, huh?”

“G-go...to _hell -_ ”

“been there, not that impressive,” Sans said, shifting his foot a little to make the bone wobble. “i’m feeling pretty generous here bud, even though you’re, pfft, _hell_ bent on making this difficult. three more seconds.”

“I’m not t-telling you _anything_ \- ” the fish monster gurgled, twisting his head sideways.

“two.”

“Guys, what the hell are you doing?!”

“one.”

“H-hurry up and help me!”

“heh. have it your way, buddy,” Sans chuckled, lifting up his left hand to Summon the -

_“GAAAAAH!”_

He whirled around towards the rock wall, saw the cow and the dog monster splayed out on the ground, bruises and blood coating their features, and saw the alligator still standing, sword raised with the tip pointed downward.

Directly over his brother, laying on the cavern floor and twitching in pain -

 _“papyrus!”_ he yelled, grabbing the Souls without truly thinking about it. The alligator monster had time to look surprised before she was flung away alongside her companions, and he released their Souls, uncaring where they landed as he teleported, dropping to his knees next to Papyrus.

“papyrus, bro,” he cried, grabbing onto the skeleton’s armored shoulder. There was no response, but the twitching grew as he rolled his brother over onto his back, and -

The black was already covering half of Papyrus’ skull, cracking and splintering across the bone like cracks in the earth during a tremor, and even in the split second of watching it spread over Papyrus’ right eye, turning it a deathly red.

“damnit, _damnit,_ not now,” Sans hissed, cradling Papyrus’ head as his brother’s body continued to twitch and spasm. “paps, c’mon buddy, listen to my voice, okay? just - ” His hands were shaking as he frantically ripped off his bag, unclasping it to reach for one of the vials. “hold on papy, hold - ”

Years of training dictated the movement of his body before his mind even registered it from the corner of his eye. Sans dropped Papyrus’ head as the throwing axe was flung past him to embed itself in the cavern wall, and the cat monster came charging with his own axe.

Sans didn’t think, only grabbed onto the Soul and threw it away from himself, and he followed it with a volley of bones, again uncaring of where they landed as he struggled to get back to his brother.

Only to feel a sharp pain lash against his backside.

Sans cried out as he toppled forward, and was rewarded with a kick to his backside. He barely managed to keep his feet as he stumbled, whirling around to see - the sentry, of course, the damn _sentry_ standing over his brother, sword swinging downwards -

He teleported, bringing up a bone to block the swing, and saw the surprise in the seahorse’s face.

_“NNN...GRRRK!”_

“hang on, papy!” he snarled, momentarily off balance from the unfavorable position. But he recovered and Summoned another bone in his free hand, had time to see that expression change to one of fear before he sunk it deep into the seahorse’s stomach, kicked him out of the way as the monster’s hand dropped the sword to scrabble instead at the bone.

And from his right, the alligator was back, sword raised over her head while the dog monster was frantically attempting to pull the bones out of his leader’s arms -

He flung out his hand, sending the bones straight at the alligator monster, and she dropped without a single noise, dead before she hit the ground.

_“HHHNNNN...”_

And just to make sure -

Sans raised his left hand to the cavern ceiling, felt the dozens of bones materialize all over the cavern, and barely registered the gasps and pleas of the various monsters scattered around, trying to crawl their way to freedom as he flung the bones downwards.

He let them scream in the background as he raced back towards Papyrus, automatically rummaging through the bag he had dropped as he tugged at his brother’s scarf. The armor covered most of him, but beneath it he knew that the entire right side of his brother had to be tarred black too.

Even now it was still spreading across his brother’s skull, inching its way towards his left eye.

“i’ve got you bro, you’re gonna be fine,” he chanted, and Sans wasn’t sure if he was talking to his brother or himself as he yanked out one of the cushioned vials and frantically tore at the cloth surrounding it, keeping it safe. He barely let out a relieved sigh as the whole and unbroken glass vial appeared, throwing away the cloth to lean over his brother. “hang on papy, i’m gonna - ”

Desperation warred with experience as Sans shakily held the vial in one hand, hovering its needle over his brother. The armor made it difficult, but there was no time to remove it. Sans shoved the armor over as far as he could, baring Papyrus’ neck as much as possible, and shoved the needle directly into the bone of his throat.

“GHHAAAAAH!”

“i know, i’m sorry bro,” he whispered, using his magic to hold Papyrus down. His brother trashed beneath him, but he kept a firm hold, carefully injecting the serum deep into Papyrus’ bones. “easy papyrus, i’ve got you. big bro’s got you.”

Papyrus stilled, limbs locked in agony, before he abruptly slumped, eyes falling closed.

And -

Nothing was happening.

Nothing was happening, Papyrus’ skull was still half tarred with the blackness, looking like his entire right side was burnt, and he was too late, he’d been too late, his brother was _dead_ and it was _all his -_

Abruptly, the black began to recede.

Sans let out a gasping breath he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding, cradling his brother’s head. A wiser monster might have cautioned against exposure, but Sans brought his forehead against his brother’s own, eyes tracking the movement of the Scourge as it slowly left his brother’s body.

Not until every last speck of black was hidden from view did he finally release him, leaning backwards with a shaking breath.

“damnit paps,” he whispered shakily to his unconscious brother, rubbing a hand against Papyrus’ forehead, “you s-scared me right outta my _skin.”_

And if he needed any more proof that the serum had worked as intended, Papyrus’ face scrunched up in his sleep.

Still, Sans couldn’t bring himself to move away from his brother. He picked up the bag - after a brief check on the other two vials carefully wrapped inside - and grabbed the Paladin’s Soul once more, carefully using his magic to move Papyrus further into the cavern. He ignored the broken and bloodied bodies as he went, stepped over them to lead Papyrus towards the back.

As he’d expected, there were pallets spread across one of the alcoves, along with some chairs surrounding a table that boasted a fair amount of gold. A cozy little home base while they planned to kill humans, huh. Sans laid his brother down on one of the pallets and pulled a fur blanket across the skeleton, listening to the even and steady breathing, before allowing himself to sit down at the table. He sat and focused on the slight pain radiating from his back, so that he wouldn't have to focus on anything else.

Like the fact that this time had been entirely too close. But at least it hadn’t been too late. Sans attempted to comfort himself with the thought.

If only his hands could stop shaking.

It took a while, but they finally did. That didn’t stop Sans from shoving them into his pockets however, taking comfort in the familiarity of it as he glanced around the alcove, eyes coming to rest on the table.

The gold was resting in two piles, one neat and tidy, the other sloppy. Clearly they had been counting out some amount of gold they had just received.

And he had a feeling he knew exactly where it’d come from.

What he _didn’t_ know, however, was that a note had apparently come with the package Jerry had dropped off as well.

With his hands no longer shaking, Sans reached out for the note that was pinned to the table with a knife. The handwriting was a neat script that spoke of someone who’d been writing for a long time - certainly not any of the farmers and craftsmen from Raslen. With a frown, Sans read through the message once.

Then twice, just to make sure, before he tiredly rolled up the note and slipped it into his coat, pulling out his notebook instead.

_18 summer’s end, 851:1 AT_

_crippled wings in league with others, possibly outsiders. traveling north to sovredes for further leads. starting investigation into ‘cello’._

Heh heh...yup.

Exactly what he’d been afraid of.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter 4 of Beneath the Echoed Veil! After months of picking at this chapter, I pumped out nearly all of it in a couple of days. xD Inspiration, you are a fickle mistress. Thank you all for your patience and understanding with my recent silence with my stories!
> 
> Future chapters might be shorter than the current ones, so that I can get them out faster. Of course, often times I SAY I'll write a shorter chapter but then won't be able to section it off in a thematic way that makes sense or something like that, so I'll just end up writing more and posting the whole thing. Who knows!
> 
> If you like the story and have questions/comments/whatever, follow me on Tumblr at https://talekeeper-tales.tumblr.com and leave me your questions! I'll be happy to answer them (spoilers notwithstanding, of course).
> 
> Thanks for reading, for the Kudos and comments, and I hope you guys look forward for the next chapter!


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